


Hope's on Fire

by dawnstruck



Series: Hopeless Wanderer [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, Codependency, Gen, Jiraiya POV, M/M, Podfic Available, non-sexual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You think this is our fault?” Naruto realizes nevertheless, and it's always 'us' and 'we' and 'our' with him. He and the Uchiha have become an entity, inseparatable.<br/>The part of Jiraiya that writes tempetuous love stories almost thinks it romantic. Yet this is anything but.</p><p> </p><p>Jiraiya's greatest regret comes in the shape of two runaway boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After having been distracted by the kuroko no basuke fandom, I decided that it was time to upoad publish something Sasunaru again, and since this series keeps getting a lot of positive feedback, I thought I might as well follow popular demand.
> 
> Jiraiya was always one of my absolute favourite characters, so writing from his POV was not only to get an outsider's view on the sasunaru dynami here, but also because I enjoy character studies. I hope you will have just as much fun reading as I did writing.

“ _You heard my voice, I came out of the woods by choice_

_Shelter also gave their shade_

_But in the dark I have no name”_

Mumford and Sons ~ Hopeless Wanderer

 

Despite what some people may think, he is not a Legendary Sannin for nothing. In fact, some people have even called him the strongest of them, considering that – unlike Orochimaru – he has never made use of more unethical means of gaining power.

He reckons that none of these people have ever been at the receiving end of one of Tsunade-hime's right hooks, though.

He's in his mid-fifties now, which is old for a shinobi of his caliber, a shinobi who has seen and done so much. On top of that he is still whole and hale, relatively speaking. He has scars, of course, but the worst ones linger beneath the surface. Grief is, after all, the blade that cuts the deepest.

But Jiraiya does not feel like a legend. Legends are an ever-changing constant, both fleeting and forever. Legends do not feel or fail. They do not sit at bars with the intent of drinking themselves silly in order to forget, if only for a little while.

He's actually banned from this particular inn because of an incident some ten years back, involving the adjoining onsen and some well-to-do merchant's beautiful daughter, so he's chosen to disguise himself to avoid drawing attention.

It's not even that this place is overly suited for his purpose tonight, too expensive and posh, considering that he only wants to sit around and drink. But it was the only establishment close enough when he had gotten the latest message from Konoha.

Or what was left of it, which isn't much.

The destruction during the attack had been thorough and pointless. Akatsuki looking for clues on a jinjuuriki who had not been there in many years.

Many had died. Shizune, for one, leaving Tsunade inconsolable. The girl had been her student and assistant for a long time, offering her comfort and guidance when Tsunade had been left adrift. Now she is adrift once more, but with a ruinated village to care for.

Jiraiya himself had near shattered when he learned that it was all at the hand of the children he had once taken in and trained. Children who, by some of Fate's follies, ended up misguided and full of anger.

He had wanted to teach them how to survive, and instead they had learned how to kill.

Once, he had thought that Minato's death was the worst kind of loss. Turning a good boy into a great man, and having him die in glory and self-sacrifice. This, though. This is indefinitely worse.

He knows that, logically, it is not his fault that his village and its families were torn apart. And yet he has never felt older or more foolish.

The message he got today did not inspire much hope either.

Tsunade is doing her best to rebuild their home, but with so much lost and so little left over it is proving to be a tedious and painful task.

Konoha has known much of war, has lost all of their Kage in battle, but it seems especially cruel for Tsunade to be the one who has to put it all back together twice during her short reign.

Back then, Jiraiya had known why he had rejected the position when it had been offered to him, but it has become one of his greatest regrets to think that it would be a good idea to drag his hime back to a village that she had long turned her back to.

He hadn't even been the one to convince her, though. That had been Naruto and she had lost him shortly therafter. Cruel indeed, and utterly unexpected.

So Jiraiya is sitting here and drinking and wishing it would all just stop for once, if only for a little while, looking for distraction.

The other guests mostly ignore him and he only lets his gaze wander over them because even here instinct tells him to always check for possible threats.

There's a middle-aged man, well on his way to being drunk, but still ordering more sake. Four women in their thirties, two of them sisters, most likely, apparently on a well-deserved weekend vacation. A young couple, honeymooning by the looks of it.

The girl is blond and pretty, reminding him of Tsunade at that age, just in the cusps of womanhood, her body growing more shapely. She is smiling in a quietly giddy way, sitting close to her supposed husband.

He's handsome as well, brown hair and naturally tan skin. His smile is more of a smirk, more composed than his bride. But he must be pretty gone on her, too, for when their dessert arrives he starts feeding her pieces of fruit.

She parts her lips eagerly, but keeps looking at him through lowered lashes. Juice runs down her chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. Jiraiya almost rolls his eyes at how obvious it is where this is going.

The woman takes the man's hand between her hers and licks the remaining juice from his fingers, as if they weren't sitting in a public place. Maybe they've forgotten about that, though, because the man just pulls her closer by the waist until she is flush against him, and starts mouthing at her neck.

Her eyes flutter shut, but when he tries tugging open her yukata she shoves him away playfully and laughs in his face.

“Later,” she says, a big grin on her lips.

“Now,” he insists and moves to undress her again, but she jumps up and dances out of his reach.

“I'll order us some more sake,” she tells him, “For our room.”

He seems to take the hint and sits back, satisfied, deciding to make short work of the leftover dessert, but keeping his eyes on her as she walks away towards the bar where Jiraiya is sitting.

She's his type, and he's tempted to leer at her or smile or make some sort of comment, but for once he is too tired to live up to his reputation. Also, he doesn't want to ruin her special night by some old man coming on to her, so he just watches her from the corner of his eyes as she comes to stand next to him.

“O-nee-san,” she says, trying to get the attention of the woman behind the bar, “I'd like some sake brought up to room 7.”

Once her order has been taken, she gives her thanks and turns to leave again. That's when Jiraiya feels it.

A tiny flare of chakra, minuscule even, the sort of thing that sometimes happens with people who have never learned to harness their bodies' energy, and definitely unnoticeable for anyone who isn't Jiraiya.

It wouldn't even have surprised him because the girl certainly doesn't seem like a kunoichi.

But she doesn't seem like the Kyuubi's jinjuuriki either.

Jiraiya barely manages to swallow the sake in his mouth for it suddenly tastes like ashes and his throat closes up in disgust. The grip on his cup tightens, just marginally, but he keeps himself in check, refraining from turning around and staring openly.

A henge, apparently, and a strong one at that. The sort he is using at the moment. He stares down into his cup, wanting to smash it against the bar counter and dig the shards into his palm, just so the pain might distract him from his inner turmoil.

After all this time, he has finally found Minato's boy.

He keeps his head down, but lifts his gaze as Naruto in the form of a girl returns to the table. The Uchiha has stood up as well and when his fake bride is within reach once more he sweeps her off her feet and into his arms.

Naruto lets out a noise somewhere between a squeak and a laugh and holds on tightly as the Uchiha easily carries her out of the bar room and into the hallway.

Jiraiya waits for a moment, then he slams down enough money to cover what he has consumed, and gets up to follow them at a distance.

He's not even tipsy yet, but he acts it, makes his gait a little uncertain and his posture lax, making extra sure to conceal his chakra signature. He rounds a corner just in time to hear the door to one of the rooms slide shut.

If he were twenty years younger he might have barged in there and initiated a fight. But it's been five years and he can be patient a little while longer. And as the encounter is so unexpected, he is not quite ready himself, he has to admit.

This situation is delicate and he needs time to think. He cannot come up with a plan for a battle because it is not a battle. It is politics. It demands strategy and negotiation.

So Jiraiya restrains himself and folds himself down on the floor, deciding to wait and listen.

They do not set any measures for sound-proofing the room, which either speaks of carelessness or self-assurance. Considering the two of them have never been caught before, Jiraiya would bet on the later.

A few minutes pass and then a girl comes walking down the hallway, carrying a tray with more sake. Jiraiya allows his eyes to track her, even as she is completely oblivious to him, concealed by an additional subtle henge.

The girl announces herself and, upon being beckoned in, enters. A minute passes in which she wishes them a pleasant stay and a good night before excusing herself.

As soon as she is gone and the door is shut, Naruto asks, “Do you want me to stay like this?”

A small snort and an emphatic, “No.”

There's a change of skin and a ruffle of clothes.

When Naruto speaks again his voice is that of a man's, but unfamiliar still because the last time Jiraiya had seen him he'd been little more than a boy.

“Do you want more sake?” Naruto offers, but Sasuke declines that as well, “I want you.”

And Jiraiya writes erotica for a living, but that line is so cheap that it makes his eyes roll.

Naruto doesn't seem to mind too much, though, because he lets out an amused laugh, “Come and get me then.”

The thing is that Uchiha Sasuke already has gotten him, time and time again, in too many different ways. All of which hurt to even think about.

Jiraiya remembers the time when Konoha had still been holding up and he had dropped by to exchange Intel on Akatsuki.

Kakashi and Shikamaru had informed him of their recent encounter with Naruto and Sasuke, revealing that the Uchiha had taken his game to another level.

The two younger men had been ashen-faced but composed as Tsunade explained the psychology behind it all, speaking in a clipped voice as if mentally distancing herself from the fact that this was what had happened to the brat who had so easily wormed his way into her heart.

But the Uchiha had wormed his way into _Naruto_ 's heart, and Jiraiya had wanted to rail and shout and destroy everything in the office.

What would Minato and Kushina say if they knew that he had let it come to this?

He was the boy's godfather, yet he had never been there to raise him. Had let him grow up alone and shunned, which eventually made him so suceptible for the Uchiha's poisonous indoctrinations. If only Jiraiya had been a parent for the child, or at least a distant uncle, if he had done something, anything at all – then Naruto would most likely never have left Konoha.

And Jiraiya cannot help but wonder how things would have turned out then. He had been planning to take the boy travelling for a few years, to train and teach him, show him the world. Because there had been such vast potential in him, such promise that he would surpass his father, and Jiraiya, and all that came before him.

Maybe they would have defeated Akatsuki. Maybe Konoha would still be standing. Maybe fewer lives would have been lost. And eventually, some more years down the road, Naruto would have settled down with some nice girl and raised his own kids, or at least his own team of gennin.

Naruto would have become Hokage, loved, admired, respected. He would have united the nations where no one else could.

Instead he is seventeen and slave to a traitor whose madness runs in the family. He's tiptoeing the line between kidnapping victim and missing nin. He is playing at honeymoon in a glitzy inn and does not seem to have a care in the world.

Instead the boy who wanted to be Hokage so people would acknowledge him is content with getting fucked by someone who would doubtlessly discard him as soon as he has lost his usefulness.

So Jiraiya sits against the wall, bathed in shadows, listening to the moans and grunts and skin slapping against skin.

There's nothing that sounds like violence. No harsh words or hidden barbs. No threats of pain, in fact no pain at all.

There're some whispered pleas from Naruto, asking to be touched a certain way, and whenever his wishes are fulfilled his breath catches around the sound of Sasuke's name.

Jiraiya had always thought that Orochimaru's brand of insanity and manipulation was something to marvel at. But this, this is something even worse.

And despite it all, despite what Jiraiya's sources had told him to the contrary, he had always expected Naruto to look and behave in a certain way that belied his situation. But he does not appear sad or scared or beaten down. He is not under the influence of a mind jutsu. He seems, for lack of a better word, happy.

He sounds happy, too, when he now comes with a gasp and a laugh, the Uchiha not far behind.

A few minutes pass, then there is some more rustling.

“Dobe,“ the Uchiha drawls, “Where are you going?“

“Catching some air,“ Naruto, back in the girl's body, replies, “Don't wait up for me.“

“... Be careful,“ comes the answer, reluctant, but not annoyed, and Jiraiya startles at that. For he would have expected the Uchiha to try to keep Naruto on a short leash, to follow him around and not let him out of his sight. This is... even more unsettling.

“You know me,“ Naruto trills, “I always am.“

At that, the Uchiha lets out a short, pointed laugh, “Hah! You and careful don't even figure on the same plane of existence.“

“Says the one who charges headlong into Akatsuki's secret lair, without any sort of plan.“

“It worked, didn't it?“

“Fortune favors fools.“

“You must be the luckiest person on earth then.“

“Maybe I am,“ Naruto teases and then walks out the door, sliding it shut behind him. He walks straight down the hallway, but before he rounds the corner he stops and looks back.

Jiraiya freezes because Naruto is not just looking back, he is looking directly at him. And not in surprise and sudden realization, but in an expectant manner. So the brat had known him to be there, at least as soon as he opened the door.

Jiraiya shakes his head and gets to his feet, following him. This... changes a lot. But maybe it's just the opportunity he needs.

Naruto makes for the gardens, peaceful as they are at this time of the evening, and the pebbles grind under their sandals, white in the faint moonlight.

There's a bench standing underneath the red leaves of a kaede tree and Naruto sits on it, waiting for Jiraiya to take the seat beside him.

“You knew I was there,” Jiraiya speaks up, grateful to be sitting again, for his bones are old and weary.

“Hmm,” Naruto hums contemplatively, “I noticed when Kyuubi alerted you.”

“So that damn fox is useful for something after all,” Jiraiya muses to himself.

“He doesn't like Sasuke,” Naruto admits, “Or me for that matter. But he doesn't like Konoha either, so he doesn't really care what happens to any of us.”

“Does he not mind being under the control of an Uchiha?” Jiraiya asks.

“Sasuke doesn't control either of us,” Naruto says, “But Kyuubi knows that this way he at least gets to come out and play every once in a while.”

“There are different kinds of control,” Jiraiya tells him, “And most of them do not require the Sharingan.”

“You are talking like Sakura-chan,” Naruto says and for the first time he turns his face to properly look Jiraiya in the eye.

“Ero-Sennin,” he says and his voice and face are all wrong, but the tone is, too. It's too familiar and gentle, but also mildly condescending. As if Jiraiya were the one who got confused.

“I know that this is difficult to understand, for you and Tsunade-baa-chan and for Kakashi-sensei and everyone. But but! Sasuke saved me, don't you see that?”

“He didn't save you, Naruto!” Jiraiya insists, “He took you away and told you things that weren't true. You are still of Konoha. If your parents-”

“My parents,” Naruto nods and looks away again, “You knew them, didn't you? You knew who they were and never told me. Why?”

Jiraiya falters. Of course, there are reasons. But they are all insufficient.

“If only I had known,” Naruto is biting his lower lip, “About the Yondaime and they Kyuubi and everything. But I didn't and I was hated and no one ever really helped me. But Sasuke – he stood up for me. He got me out.”

Jiraiya opens his mouth to say something, even though he doesn't quite know what. Because this is his guilt, his regret, the one thing he has been mulling over in his mind for years and years.

He can't fault Naruto for exchanging an entire village for the one person that seemed to hold him in some kind of regard. Can't even blame the Uchiha for he and Naruto have shared similar experiences of loneliness and ostracism.

A Hidden Village is a lonely place if you don't have anyone to fall back on. Jiraiya had always prefered to travel, after losing his genin, after watching Orochimaru go mad, after seeing Tsunade in splinters. Something had always drawn him back, though mostly it was always for Sarutobi's sake.

The old man had lost two of his students not to death, but to the ways of life – and that was a cruelty all of its own. Jiraiya had owed him at least that bit of loyalty.

He had owed Minato and Kushina the loyalty of looking after their son. Instead he had chosen to become a spy, both as a shinobi and as a writer of erotica. He had been busy hitting on women half his age while a little boy – a boy that had been named in honor of one of his characters – was fighting to survive.

So when it comes down to that, Jiraiya has no excuses to offer, no kind words, no consolation. Because while the Uchiha abused the opening to manipulate Naruto in his need for affection and attention, that opening was only ever there because no one else ever cared enough to fill it.

And now Jiraiya is sitting next to a boy who's only ever seen the world through shadowed eyes. He's always been an eloquent man, but for once speech fails him. He is desolate.

Naruto seems to realize so, too, because he does not dwell on the subject, just smoothly moves on to the next.

“How did you find us?” he asks, curious and suspicious. He obviously doesn't like the idea that him and the Uchiha have become detectable.

“I didn't,” Jiraiya admits, clearing his throat that has closed up, and angling his face away as if to watch the wind rustling through the deep red leaves of the kaede tree, “It's a complete coincidence that we ended up at the same place. And without the old fox I wouldn't even have known that it was you.”

“Are you planning to follow us?” Naruto wants to know and though his voice sounds deceptively even, there's just a tiny hitch. Anticipating a fight then. Dreading it.

“No,” Jiraiya shakes his head, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a lopsided smile, “You've taken on Akatsuki. I'd be no match for you.”

Because he is a legendary sannin, but he is not insane. He's gathered enough intel to know that neither Naruto nor Sasuke are to be underestimated. And anyone who takes them on together has a death wish.

It's curious that two runaway boys, barely even genin, would grow to be such fighters. Because Jiraiya has met his own fair share of missing nin, has trained a number of geniuses himself – but even he cannot fathom how these two could go above and beyond and raise hell in their wake.

And still so much potential left. Naruto could learn to use the Kyuubi's powers as other jinjuuriki have. Jiraiya could teach him sage mode. So many possibilities, all lost to the Uchiha's hunger for revenge.

“You will tell Tsunade-baa-chan that you met us,” Naruto continues as he, too, watches the tree, “And she will send new teams after us. Sakura-chan will be sad.”

“That girl is beyond sadness,” Jiraiya tells him because he has seen Tsunade's student and she is fierce and angry and and brittle with fear of abandonment. Tsunade used to be similar, but she had always chosen to let go where Sakura feebly tried to hold on.

“How is everyone?” Naruto asks and this is unexpected. According to previous reports, Naruto has never seemed to show any interest in his former life. Now he is openly curious.

Jiraiya hums, contemplating how to use this opportunity.

“Konoha is barely holding up,” he explains what Naruto has to know because he was there during the fatal attack and didn't bother to stay, “Many have died. Several of the older jounin. Akemichi Chouza. Shizune, too.”

At that Naruto freezes, turns his head and blinks up at him with wide eyes, “Shizune-nee-chan is dead? How's... how's baa-chan doing then?”

“Keeps herself busy,” Jiraiya says, “Doesn't allow herself a moment of grief. She's going to run herself into the ground.”

“And... Iruka-sensei? Kakashi-sensei?”

“Don't know much about Umino,” Jiraiya admits, “There was a bit of an incident, though. Discussions about speeding up the academy education and promoting more students to genin level. Times of need demand new soldiers.”

“... It's that bad?” Naruto whispers because this boy has seen and done a lot but he has never known war. Not like Jiraiya has. Not like Kakashi has.

“Kakashi is doing a lot of high-rank missions,” he mentions, casually as if talking about the weather instead of classified information, “Gone back to ANBU.”

“Kaka-sensei was ANBU?” Naruto gasps, probably unable to make the intimidating reputation of Konoha's elite mesh with the picture he still has of his laid-back teacher.

“One of the best, for over a decade,” Jiraiya nods along, “Nearly destroyed himself until the Third made him stop by finally giving him a genin team that fit. Now... well. You know the rest of the story.”

And the Uchiha is a manipulative bastard, but two can play this game, and Jiraiya is a tenacious player.

“You think this is our fault?” Naruto realizes nevertheless, and it's always 'us' and 'we' and 'our' with him. He and the Uchiha have become an entity, inseparatable. The part of Jiraiya that writes tempetuous love stories almost thinks it romantic. Yet this is anything but.

“No,” he shakes his head gently, wisely, “Things happen and people make decisions and it's all interconnected. But in the end we are all responsible for ourselves. You chose to go with the Uchiha, Kakashi chose to return to ANBU. I agree with neither, but I know better than to talk you out of it.”

“Then why are we talking at all?”

“Why do you keep asking questions?”

At that, Naruto falls silent, gaze dropping to his feet.

“It's not that I stopped caring,” he mumbles, “But... thinking about everyone else hurts. Being with Sasuke... doesn't.”

“Even if he uses you?”

“He used to, I think,” Naruto muses, “But not anymore. And what's so wrong with that anyway? I helped him get revenge. He helped me become stronger, helped me find my worth. I've used him just as much.”

“He fucks you,” Jiraiya points out bluntly, but Naruto only lets out a startled laugh, “Sometimes I get to fuck him, too, you know.”

“Fine then,” Jiraiya says, “I won't tell you to abandon him. I won't drag you home. But if you do not mind being used by those who care for you, I have one request.”

At once, Naruto's eyes narrow suspiciously, “And that would be?”

Jiraiya turns his gaze calmly, “Help protect Konoha.”

“What?” Naruto shakes his head furiously, “You just said you wouldn't try to bring me back, so-”

“Not for good,” Jiraiya interrupts him, “Just temporarily. A short-term arrangement, until the wind blows over.”

“You're expecting another attack,” Naruto surmizes and Jiraiya nods, “Sooner rather than later. And against an overwhelming enemy.”

“Then what makes you think that Sasuke and I would make a difference?”

“Well, you for one have the Kyuubi,” Jiraiya says off-handedly, knowing that the next bit of info will make or break the deal, “And your little friend is the only other Uchiha still left in existence.”

 

Jiraiya is asked to wait outside while Naruto goes to convince Sasuke.

He knows that, for the moment, he cannot do anything, but the uncertainty still tests his patience. He thinks the Uchiha will be baited by the prospect of a long lost relative, but it's just as likely that he'll turn tail and take Naruto as far away a possible.

So Jiraiya waits and wonders and doesn't quite allow himself to hope.

“We'll do it,” Naruto let's the cat out of the bag without preamble, as soon as he steps out the door again, the Uchiha by his side, “But we have demands.”

Sasuke appears completely unruffled, neither moved by Jiraiya's appearance in their lives, nor by the request to return to Konoha. He lets Naruto do the talking, his gaze mildly bored, neither on the boy himself nor on Jiraiya.

He seems unthreatened and unbothered, and that irks Jiraiya like nothing else, but he doesn't show it either. So maybe in truth the little shit is boiling under the surface just as much. The thought mollifies Jiraiya somewhat, but not overly so.

“Of course,” he agrees to what Naruto is saying. This is a truce and he cannot mess up now by offending either of them.

“No one will try to punish or keep us there,” Naruto lists, his tone leaving no room for objections, “No one will forcibly separate us. No one will attack Sasuke, whether verbally or otherwise. In fact, no one will question us or what we do. We are willing to help as allies, but not as subordinates. We answer to no one.”

“Will you at least consider suggestions in regard to strategies?” Jiraiya asks, swallowing a long-suffering sigh.

“Yes,” Naruto nods curtly, “But we have our own way of fighting. Other people might get in the way, and they have to consider that before they try to order us around.”

“Then you have yourself a deal,” Jiraiya allows himself to smile, but then Naruto lifts a hand.

“Another thing,” he adds, “You will go ahead and inform baa-chan or whatever. Just make sure no one tries to murder us on sight. But Sasuke and I, we travel alone.”

And when it comes down to it, it's not like Jiraiya would have expected anything else.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, so far. There will probably be two more chapters, which will include the return to Konoha, and Naruto and Sasuke being separated for the first time in almost five years. And we'll of course get to see other people's reaction to the duo. But let me know what you might be especially interested in, and I'll see whether I can include it. No promises, though. ;-)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took ages to round off. I'm still not happy with the outcome because it feels too much like a filler or a segue, but that just means that the last chapter will have all the drama, action and angst.

They stand at the gates.

Tsunade is a tense pillar beside him, arms crossed over her chest. Her nails are digging into her skin where her fingers are clenched around her upperarms, as if to keep herself from quivering.

Sakura is mirroring her stance, but whereas Tsunade is biting her lip in a vicious frown, Sakura's emotions are even more visible in their fluctuations, flickering over her face from anger to hope to uncertainty.

Jiraiya had prepared them, both of them, to not read too much into it. Because while Naruto had agreed to this new alliance, he had made it clear that he had not changed his mind about anything else. He still believed Sasuke in the right, still did not trust Konoha to not disappoint him once more.

At seventeen, he had spent a quarter of his life as a nuke-nin, which might not seem like much. But for the first twelve years he had also been an outcast. Essentially, he had only been a real part of Konoha for little over a year.

A year during which Sakura, according to herself, had either ignored him or made fun of him. A year during which Kakashi had only concentrated on the genius among his students. A year during which Jiraiya had only figured for a couple of weeks.

For all intents and purposes, they are all strangers to Naruto, little more than fleeting thoughts. But by running away he had become a fixure in their lives, a constant reminder in everything they did.

So while Naruto is precious to them, his own fond memories are 90% Sasuke – and that is impossible to override. Now that this fragile bond has been established, they must take care to not overwhelm him and demand things that were never really there in the first place.

So that's what Jiraiya had told them, and they had grudgingly agreed. But as all shinobi know, theory and practice are two very different things. And as they are waiting the gates of Konohagakure, Jiraiya prays fervently that the two kunoichi will maintain their discipline.

“They are coming,” he says now, projecting calm, because his eyes are sharper than most and he can see movement at the horizon.

Next to him, Tsunade and Sakura tense up even more, and he can hear how his hime grits her teeth.

Both women are still caught off guard. No surprise there, considering that there is almost no chakra signature to detect from the two boys moving down the road, slow and steady like any common travelers.

They are wearing henge, subtle enough that it gradually fades away the closer they get.

“Hime,” Jiraiya warns quietly because the Hokage has never been good at keeping her temper in check. This is one of those moments where she is close to bursting.

“I know,” she growls and visibly forces herself to relax.

Her turmoil is understandable. Jiraiya himself had parted way with the boys only a few days ago. Even Sakura had ran into them twice during the past year. For Tsunade, however, this is the first time since Naruto's unexpected disappearance that she has laid eyes on him.

It is not the first time that she has wanted to strangle the Uchiha.

So Jiraiya decides to do what he generally dislikes and takes lead for now.

“Glad to see you could make it,” he says, admittedly a little wryly, but with the intent of smoothing over hurt feelings and focussing on the mission at hand.

“We don't go back on our words,” Naruto replies as he and his companion come to a stop in front of them, and Jiraiya nearly chokes on his tongue.

Of course. Their symbiosis is absolute and all-encompassing. It still feels like a kick to the face to have Naruto's mantra bastardized and thrown back at them like this.

Jiraiya could swear to see a tiny uptick at one corner of the Uchiha's pale mouth, but right then he is too busy keeping Sakura and Tsunade under control. He has never seen the Hokage and her student fight side by side and he does not particularly care to wtiness such a scenario now.

“Before we get down to business,” Naruto says, skipping all pleasantries as though to remind them all that this is no courtesy call, “Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?”

So they have spotted the ANBU. Obviously.

“Of course,” Tsunade says as politely as can be expeted under the circumstances. Then, as if testing their boundaries, “Brat.”

Naruto doesn't quite grin, but his eyes glow a little.

“I'm not a brat anymmore,” he tells her, “But you'll always be an old hag.”

Tsunade bites out a laugh.

“Fine by me,” she says, even though anyone else would have been smashed through a wall already. But Tsunade would no longer do that to Naruto. Especially not in front of the Uchiha.

“Let's go,” she ordes and turns on her heel.

Sasuke and Naruto exchange a fleeting look and follow, walking side by side as if in sync.

Jiraiya takes a moment to offer Sakura an encouraging nod.

Her green eyes are glued to the boys' retreating backs as they have been for the past five years, but when she notices Jiraiya watching her, she jerkily moves forward.

It must hurt, he thinks, to not be acknowledged by either of her former teammates.

When Orochimaru had gone rogue, Jiraiya had still felt like he could always relie on Tsunade and Hiruzen-sensei. Sakura no longer even had a real connection to Kakashi. In a way she was now the fourth orphan of little broken Team 7.

As they walk through the village, Jiraiya does what he does best: observe.

The Uchiha does not bother looking around, but Naruto takes everything in attentively, even if from behind Jiraiya can only guess at his emotional reaction to the sights.

The most severe of the recent damage has been cleared away and repaired, but Konoha is still far from its former glory.

The last time Sasuke and Naruto had been here, they had assassinated the council, not caring for the fact – or rather, making use of it – that the village was under attack by Akatsuki.

Technically, the two boys are enemies of the state now and should, under no circumstances, be considered as allies.

But to an extent the council had brought its ruination upon itself. Danzou certainly had. There was no denying that the Uchiha clan had been unlawfully exterminated and that he has harvested their Sharingan for his own wicked intentions.

Jiraiaya had never endorsed thoughts of vengeance, especially not in this literal 'an eye for an eye' sort of feud, but he could at least understand them. Sasuke hadn't been right in his actions, but he hadn't been more wrong than Danzou either.

And for now, this tentative alliance is the only real hope Konoha still has.

 

The Hokage Tower stands tall and fortified.

Tsunade waves away the chuunin and jounin that stand to attention at their arrival, but the ANBU still follow them. No one says anything but there are many gazes following them, suspicious, disbelieving, incensed.

For many, the boys' desertion has only hardened their unfavourable opinions about the Kyuubi and the Sharingan users.

Fortunately, it doesn't take take long to reach Tsunade's office, and Jiraiya gratefully closes and seals the door behind them.

There are no visible reminders of the execution of the council members that had happened within this very room, no blood staining the walls or soaked into the wooden floorboards. But the portraits of the former Hokage on the wall are an unpleasant reminder of all of Jiraiya's failures, especially now that Narto has grown to be the spitting image of Minato.

On Tsunade's desk there are still pictures of her loved ones. The photograph of Naruto, thirteen and smiling and _himself_ , is a far cry from reality.

I am surrounded by echoes and shadows, Jiraiya realizes, But doesn't that just mean that there must still be sources of sound and light as well?

“First things first,” Tsunade says, slamming her palms down onto the top of her desk as she sits behind it. Sakura stands to her right, just where Shizune always used to be until only a little while ago.

“I'm guessing you're not just planning to help us out of the goodness of your heart,” the Godaime points out, “So what are your demands?”

“Destroying Akatsuki is within our interest as well,” Sasuke replies, reminding them all of the rumors Jiraiya had carried home only a few weeks ago. Namely that Akatsuki had gotten their hands on Naruto and thus almost on the Kyuubi. Yet Naruto appears to be in perfect health while Akatsuki has lost three of its members.

“But we also want complete exoneration,” Sasuke adds, without shame or respect, “If we do this, then no Konoha shinobi will ever follow or attack us again.”

“Complete exoneration would include being permitted back into the village, rank and all,” Tsunade says, lips pursed.

“Don't worry,” Sasuke almost smirks, “We don't want that.”

He does it, too, Jiraiya marvels. The Uchiha is no longer a single soldier. At least in front of Naruto, he promotes the idea of them being one, belonging together in all things. Is it just another strategy or does he do it unconsciously? Does he truly believe it himself?

“Fine,” Tsunade allows through gritted teeth, “Anything else?”

“Nothing but what we've already established before,” Sasuke answers, “While we are here, no one questions us. No one tries to separate us. We will fight for you, but if one of your own assaults us we will fight them, too.”

“As is fully within your right,” Tsunade nods, if reluctantly, “I have forewarned all my shinobi about your temporary return and instructed them to behave properly, especially the people you will be working with. I can't vouch for everyone, though. Emotions are running high at the moment, so there will most likely be transgressions. Just avoid killing anyone.”

“We are used to being treated as outsiders,” Sasuke reminds her and Naruto gives a short, agreeing nod.

“Fine then,” Tsunade declares, her tone final. After all this time of wanting to see Naruto again, she is obviously in a hurry to get this conversation over and done with, “Sakura will show you around.”

At that, Jiraiya starts a little. It seems imprudent to choose a former classmate of the boys' to act as a guide at all, but even then Shikamaru Nara would have been the best best, level-headed and generally emotionally uninvolved. Sakura is the complete opposite of that and not at all prepared to handle such a precarious situation.

“If I may,” he says casually, scratching the side of his nose, “I'd like to come along. I haven't had a chance to look at the front lines yet.”

Tsunade gives Sakura a short nod of permission and then dismisses them all, probably to drown herself in the sake she keeps locked away in her desk drawer.

“Follow me,” Sakura says, her voice strong and unwavering. Jiraiya does not wish to underestimate her, but the day is still young and there lie many obstacles ahead.

 

The front lines aren't exactly that because there is no full-blown war. But while the civilians have returned to living within the city walls, the shinobi are mostly stationed in barracks outside, trying to establish some semblance of routine and preparing for worst-case scenarios.

People pause as their little group passes by. Some are openly staring, some attempt to be more furtive about it. Soon enough, the whispers start up.

“It's them, isn't it?” “So Godaime-sama was speaking the truth.” “We're really supposed to work with them?” “My cousin got attacked by them once.” “I've always been saying that the bijuu were dangerous.” “What are the higher-ups thinking?”

Neither Naruto nor Sasuke give any indication of hearing the voices all around. But then again, as Sasuke already said, the two have plenty experience of having to ignore other people's opnions.

“The chuunin are stationed here,” Sakura explains, motioning towards the right where several tents and cabins have been set up, “But we have jounin supervisiors who are in charge. Shikamaru is responsible for our division.”

“Shikamaru is already jounin?” Naruto marvels, “Awesome!”

“Dobe,” Sasuke drawls, “Ranks say nothing. Ability-wise we'd at least be special jounin.”

You'd be ANBU, but without any of the discipline and loyalty, Jiraiya thinks. You'd be unstoppable. Maybe you already are.

“Hah!” Naruto laughs, “You're just jealous because we flunked the chuunin exam while Shikamaru didn't.”

“I'm not jealous,” Sasuke hisses and cuffs him over the head, but gently enough that Jiraiya can't even take offense.

Sakura, however, watches the interaction with narrowed eyes.

“This is the canteen,” she points out mechanically, “Supplies are scarce, though, so food is being rationed.”

“There are Chouji and Ino,” Naruto notices, something close to delight in his voice, “Man, Chouji has really gotten tall.”

In that moment, an Inuzuka steps out of the mens, closely followed by a huge white ninken. The three shinobi exchange some subtle looks and then slowly walk over to the newcomers, keeping their gaits unthreatening.

“Hi,” Yamanaka Ino says casually, flipping her pony tail back, but her gaze is as sharp and analytical as her father's.

Jiraiya can see the Inuzuka sniff surreptitiously. Only Akemichi Chouza's boy fiddles with the hem of his sleeves, obviously a little bit uncertain.

“Ino,” Sakura addresses her, “Do you know where Shikamaru is? We haven't yet decided where to accommodate... our guests.”

Jiraiya cannot fault her for not knowing how to call the two boys. They are allies, true, but only temporary ones. They used to be friends, classmates, but that was so long ago and ended so abruptly that any allusion to it would seem like an ill-timed joke.

“I think they are just meant to join us in the barracks,” Ino replies with a shrug that apearss too practised in its careless execution.

“We have brought tents,” Sasuke speaks up, “To keep our privacy.”

A tense silence descends.

The intimate course the nature of Sasuke and Naruto's relationship has taken is no secret to those who have worked on their case. Jiraiya knows that it has caused an outcry among all of them.

And although unlike Sakura, Ino has always primarily been a part of her own team, training under Sarutobi Asuma, she is also a student of Tsunade-hime and a Yamanaka to boot. She knows a lot about genjutsu and mind-healing. She also knows about other kinds of trauma and abuse.

“You'll have to sort that out with Shika,” she replies in that same easy manner, diplomatically picking up the conversation again, “And speaking of the devil...”

“Very funny, Ino,” Shikamaru sighs as he draws closer, “I'm your superior, remember? Do you want cleaning duty again?”

“Do you want anyone to know about your super secret rendezvous?” Ino asks sweetly, but then leaves Shikamaru his pride by making a vague gesture towards Naruto and Sasuke, “Where are they supposed to sleep?”

“In the trees, for all I care, as long as they don't cause any trouble,” the Nara would probably roll his eyes if it weren't too much effort, “And maybe stay close enough where I can keep an eye on them. You are inofficially part of my division, you know that, right?”

The last part is directed at Sasuke and Naruto.

“We know now,” Naruto nods and then gives a little grin, “Who would've thought that I'd ever be operating under your lead again, huh?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, Naruto cringes, seeming to belatedly realize how this might bring back a plethora of painful memories for all those gathered.

Shikamaru had failed his very first mission as a chuunin. Chouji had almost died. Sakura had lost her teammates. All because Sasuke and Naruto had chosen to leave Konoha behind.

“Whatever,” Shikamaru shrugs and makes it look more unaffected than Ino did. But Jiraiya has seen the boy spend five years frantically working on this case, even if others might be fooled.

“Come on then,” Shikamaru beckons, “We'll see where you can set up camp. Though you should probably keep as far away from the latrines as possible.”

“Why?” Naruto asks curiously and Shikamaru gives him a look, “Because they stink.”

“Idiot,” Sasuke says and turns his head away to chuckle lightly, but Naruto just sticks his tongue out at him.

They leave, bickering among themselves, Shikamaru in the lead, and Sakura tagging after them, silent and unhappy. Jiraiya chooses to stay behind, curious to hear the others' opinions.

“That was so weird,” the Inuzuka pipes up as soon as the other group is out of earshot. His fingers are nervously carding through his dog's thick fur, as though needing physical reassurance.

“Weird how?” Jiraiya asks because he wants to get all the details before determining the full picture.

“Their smells are all intertwined,” the Inuzuka responds, rubbing his knuckles over his nose, obviously hoping the dispell the odor, “I don't like it. They have their own scents and I can differentiate who's who, but they are still all over each other. And only them and no one else. I've... I've never really smelled anything like that.”

Ino just nods seriously.

“That was to be expected, really,” she assesses, “From what we have gathered, Sasuke has avoided contact with other people. On the one hand, that makes them more difficult to track. On the other, it drastically limits Naruto's exposure to anyone who is not Sasuke. It's simple, but effective. And after five years of that...”

“It's not just five years, though,” the Akemichi now timidly raises his voice, obviously uncomfortable to be speaking about this subject at all and with three sets of eyes on him.

“Back at the academy,” Chouji points out, “Naruto sometimes came to play with us. But he was still always drawn to Sasuke, even if I never saw them speak.”

“That's true,” Kiba recalls, “And he was always going on about him, too. Calling Sasuke cool or annoying by turns. Even before he started mooning over Sakura.”

“If he wanted to be like Sasuke, then gaining Sakura's attention would have meant that he was just as worthy in her eyes,” Ino speculates, “In a twisted way it makes sense, and he was so young back then.”

And yet, in an unexpected turn of events, it was Sasuke and Naruto who ended up together. Jiraiya reminds himself to never write love triangles into his novels ever again.

“What are we going to do now?” Chouji asks, “I mean, I know we're waiting for Akatsuki to make the first move, and for the back-up to arrive. But until then, are we just going to act like everything is normal?”

“Even with Naruto and Sasuke on our side, Akatsuki still has seven bijuu,” Jiraiya points out, “And we have no idea what they might really be capable of. But I once meant to become Naruto's mentor. There are still some things left that I may be able to teach him.”

“What about Sasuke then?” Ino wants to know, “I can't imagine that he'll just stand by.”

“We'll offer he what he has always liked best,” Jiraiya gives a grim smiles, “Power.”

Ino, at least, seems to understand, giving a curt nod.

“Kiba, you should probably go and warn Hinata-chan,” she tells the Inuzuka, “Make sure she doesn't accidentally run into Naruto making out with Sasuke.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Kiba pulls a grimace and then jumps onto his ninken's back, “Let's go, Akamaru.”

Jiraiya, in the meanwhile, plans to find out where Kakashi might be hiding himself.

 

“There's nothing I could be teaching that boy,” Kakashi says.

His voice sounds hollow, without much intonation. It's a habit all ANBU pick up. Some just never drop it, even when they take off their masks.

And Kakashi is not wearing porcelain now, but he's still hiding behind black fabric, one of Jiraiya's books, and a careless attitude.

“You have figured out secrets of the Sharingan that even most Uchiha weren't aware of,” Jiraiya points out, “I bet there are some he doesn't know about yet.”

“I won't do your dirty work just so that Sasuke is distracted and you can train Naruto in peace.”

“Don't be petty,” Jiraiya admonishes, hands on his hips, “We have to keep the greater good in mind here.”

Because that is their prime directive. Finding a leeway to get through to Naruto in order to free him from the Uchiha's clutches would be a favourable outcome. But mostly, they have to concentrate on saving Konoha – and the rest of the world, really - from utter destruction.

Having Naruto and Sasuke on their side, however, only makes sense if they can reach their full potential. And in Naruto's case that would include making use of the Kyuubi.

Kakashi lets out a put upon sigh.

“I will only extend the offer once,” he relents, his shoulders slumping, “But I will not beg him.”

 

“Please, just consider it,” Kakashi says, his voice strained.

“No,” Sasuke refuses again, arms crossed in front of his chest, “One of our conditions was that we would not be separated. We've been here for three hours, and you're already trying to force us apart.”

“There would be no force involved,” Jiraiya points out calmly, “We are just asking for your consideration.”

“You're planning to take Naruto to another realm,” Sasuke bares his teeth, “What's stopping you from just ganging up on me and locking me up as soon as I am alone?”

“It's because we need you.”

The contribution to their conversation is completely unexpected. Everyone turns to look at Sakura, but she just keeps her gaze fixed on her plate.

“Believe me,” she grits out, “I'd be the first person to throw you into prison. But the fact is, that Konoha is one battle away from annihilation. If your presence is what will tip the scale in our favor, then so be it.”

“Hn,” Sasuke turns his nose up at her. Then his eyes glance over at Naruto.

“I'm not happy with this either,” the jinjuuriki admits with a pronounced pout, “But I have to admit that I'm interested in that Sage training.”

“Fine then,” Sasuke says and Naruto grins.

Everyone else at the table starts a little.

No matter what they had said, the Uchiha had not been swayed. But one word from Naruto was all it took to make him give in. So far, none of what they had witnessed matched up with their expectations in regards to Sasuke's omnipresent influence on Naruto.

“But,” Sasuke adds and everyone tenses a little, “I get to eat your tomatoes.”

“What?!” Naruto complains, hastily snatching up his bowl and lifting it out of reach, “No fair! The portion is already tiny enough!”

“I let you have the dango back at the inn,” Sasuke reminds him and reaches for his chopsticks, wielding them like dangerous weapons.

“That's not the point!” Naruto yelps, ducking out of the way, “You don't even like sweet stuff!”

“And you don't really like tomato!” Sasuke manages to wrestle him down while Naruto barely keeps his food from spilling. They let out grunts and groans as they half-toussle on the floor.

Unwillingly, Jiraiya finds himself reminded of a couple of nights ago when he had had to listen to similar sounds. Now, it's nothing so depraved. Now, it's just two teenage boys fighting over food. And yet, it feels so much more wrong.

Sasuke wins, unsurprisingly, and Naruto huffs and puffs but doesn't really seem put upon.

“Itadakimasu,” Sasuke says saucily before plopping the first tomato slice into his mouth, apparently only amused by Naruto's answering growl.

“I'll be in the barracks,” Sakura declares, slamming down her own cup and standing up, before marching straight out of the canteen.

Jiraiya barely refrains from doing the same.

 

The next morning, Jiraiya wants to get an early start. They have no more time to lose, after all.

Sasuke had demanded to at least let them have another night together. No one had dared to object, but mostly because no one really wanted to think about how their night would be spent.

Now, it's barely dawn, but the camp it already bustling with activity.

Back-up from the other main villages is meant to arrive soon, primarily led by the Raikage in defense of his jinjuuriki brother, and the Kazekage, in revenge of hers.

The prospect makes everyone eager and antsy at the same time. Additional forces mean that the Leaf at least stands a fighting chance against Akatsuki, but it also includes new sources of conflict.

But once more, Jiraiya will have to leave Tsunade behind to deal with diplomatic matters. Training Naruto is something only he can truly do.

He's already made his chakra presence known, the equivalent of ringing the doorbell, but it's still Kakashi who joins him first, surprisingly on time.

“What's taking them so long?” he murmurs when they just stand in silence for a while, with nothing happening, safe for the chuunin bustling around them, throwing them curious looks.

“Do we really want to know?” Jiraiya retorts and Kakashi closes his eyes for a moment.

“That's not a mental image I like to start the day with,” he says at length, sounding mildly miffed.

“Be careful when dealing with the Uchiha,” Jiraiya reminds him, “Don't corner him, don't question him. There's a chance he might goad you on, but I suspect he'll try to keep your interactions straightforward.”

“His mere presence is a single taunt,” Kakashi replies, and in that moment the tent's flaps finally move.

When they emerge, neither boy offers a verbal greeting, but at least they appear well rested and Naruto gives the two men an acknowledging nod.

“Dobe,” Sasuke says and immediately regains his attention. They are standing close to each other, always within touching distance, as if they had their own gravitational pull, though Jiraiya is no longer sure whether he can pinpoint just who is orbiting who.

“This is so weird,” Naruto says and laughs, a little awkwardly, “I don't think we've ever had to say goodbye.”

The same thought had occurred to Jiraiya as well. That within the past five years, neither had ever been without the other, at least never for more than a few hours at a time.

Divide and conquer, he thinks to himself, with a reminder to keep his patience.

“This is not goodbye,” Sasuke replies, his tone leaving no room for doubt, even though he does not even speak with particular vehemence, “Time flies during training. We'll see each other again in a blink.”

And maybe they had heard Kakashi's previous complaint about not wanting to see certain things, but then they are already leaning towards each other.

Kakashi pointedly turns his head away, but Jiraiya just lets out a slow, controlled breath through his nose, refusing to openly snort at the display of affection. Because that's what it is, really.

Around them, people stop and stare to ogle as Sasuke and Naruto exchange sweet little kisses, their noses brushing and Sasuke's hands coming up to tangle in Naruto's hair.

Eventually, though, Jiraiya is forced to interrupt them.

“Before Akatsuki attack might be a good time,” he warns, clearing his throat, but even then the two just still, with their foreheads touching each other.

“When I come back,” Naruto teases with a grin, “I'll have some cool new jutsu to kick your ass with.”

“When you come back...” Sasuke replies in kind, but then just lets his voice trail off, coupled with a meaningful glance.

Next to Jiraiya, Kakashi lets out a barely supressed groan. For someone who reads a lot of porn, he's surprisingly squeamish about mentions of sex.

Naruto simply laughs and, finally, they separate.

“Let's get this over with,” the boy says, as though training with Jiraiya were a terrible chore, so the old man just smiles and doesn't let his heart show.

 

The Great Toad had looked at Naruto and looked and looked, and then just given a big, heavy sigh.

“He is worthy,” he had declared finally, “And maybe our secrets will suffice to guide him back to his path after he has been led astray.”

Naruto had not taken kindly to that and is still sulking a bit.

“The toads tell me you've never tried to summon them again,” Jiraiya tells him conversationally, hoping to ease the tension and also find out more about the boy's mindset.

“Well, it would have seemed a little too presumptious,” Naruto admits and rubs the back of his neck, “And I also didn't want to risk them telling on me. Gamakichi was always a bit of a blabbermouth.”

“Sounds like someone else I once knew,” Jiraiya muses, “But he has grown up quite a bit.”

“What, Gamakichi?” Naruto says, though obviously aware that they are having two conversations.

“Yes,” Jiraiya nods, “Him, too.”

But Naruto doesn't take the bait. Instead he just rolls up his sleeves and puts his hands on his hips.

“So!” he says, painfully reminiscent of the child Jiraiya once fleetingly knew, “What's this sage business all about?”

 

Time flies during training, just as the Uchiha had said.

Jiraiya finds himself daydreaming about how this might have been his life if certain things had never happened. He would officially have become Naruto's mentor, would have taken him travelling and taught him everything he knew.

He had gotten a taste of that when they had gone to search for Tsunade-hime. Three precious weeks of bonfires and popsicles and traditional fairs, Jiraiya thinking, Minato, I have done you wrong, but I know now, this is my duty, this is my destiny, this-

But even then, it had still been over-shadowed by the Uchiha as a constant thought on Naruto's mind.

I'll do everything to save him, Naruto had repeated time and time again, more than once forgetting to add, And Kaka-sensei, too!

Back then, Jiraiya had mistaken it for loyalty, had fondly thought of what a good shinobi Naruto already was, even if only by his unwavering determination.

He's my best friend, Naruto had told him, staring into the flames many a night, the firelight licking at his scarred cheeks, I can't give him up, I can't fail him, I can't-

And Naruto hadn't. The Uchiha had survived the ordeal, even if it turned out to be just another puzzle piece that paved his rapid descend into madness.

If he had never woken from his coma, everything would have been much different. Naruto would have remained a citizen of Konoha and would have become even more inspired to protect his loved one.

But these thoughts are meaningless now and Jiraiya focuses on how he can get Naruto to save the village after all.

The boy is a quick study, always has been in Jiraiya's eyes, though he knows his other teachers would disagree. Still, Sage Mode is not about strength or intelligence. It's patience and balance and harmonizing with the natural energy all around you.

Naruto is no longer as hotheaded and brash as he used to be, but that doesn't mean that he has suddenly developed an affinity for meditation. It doesn't help that they are working with a time limit.

Soon enough, two weeks have passed.

“Concentrate,“ Jiraiya instructs relentlessly, “Concentrate on everything, not just a single fixed point. Feel your surroundings, the wind in your hair, the air in your lungs. Dig your toes into the soil and listen for the earthworms underneath.“

By now, Naruto has given up on growling out an annoyed 'I'm trying', but the sweat on his brow gives away the fact that he is still, in fact, trying too hard.

Sage Mode cannot be forced. It has to be felt.

It that moment, Jiraiya registers a disruption on the plane, and a moment later Gamakichi has entered the realm, popping into existence next to him.

“It's time,“ he relates, his big eyes bulging even more, and he doesn't have to say anything else.

Jiraiya's gaze turns back towards Naruto who has opened his eyes as well.

“Go,“ he says, “They need you.“

“Your training is not yet finished,“ Jiraiya reminds him, reluctant to leave, but Naruto just shrugs, “You've done your best. The rest is up to me. And anyway, I can always ask the toads for more help.“

“True,“ Jiraiya admits and turns thoughtful for a moment. Then he addresses Gamakichi, “How dire is it?“

“Zetsu has started infiltrating the front lines,“ the young toad informs him, “He's keeping everybody occupied, probably so Madara won't have to bother with the small fish.“

“Has the back-up arrived yet?“

“Tsunade-sama is currently discussing battle plans with the Kazekage and Raikage. It still looks like Zetsu might ournumber the joint forces.“

Jiraiya curses under his breath, thinking quickly.

Naruto was right. He'd taught him everything he could. Naruto would have to figure out the rest for himself. Until then, Jiraiya might as well join the fray and even the odds a bit.

“Fine,“ he says and gives a tight nod.

“Brat, you stay here and perfect Sage Mode,“ he tells the boy who watches him attentively, “Once you've done that, follow me. - I have some weeds to burn down.“

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were only supposed to be three chapters, but now it looks more like four or five.   
> This one is mostly battle introspection from Jiraiya with only a little bit of Sasuke and no Naruto at all. Yet the sasunaru goodness will return in the next chapter with all its previous glory.  
> Hope you enjoy this one anyway.

When he arrives, the battle is just picking up pace.

As Gamakichi has said, Zetsu is shooting out of the earth all over the place like literal weed, and Jiraiya still hadn't worked out what he was, what kind of creature, what kind of sick experiment, how to hack of head, only to have two re-grow in its place.

So for now, it's just damage control. It's trying to keep the upper hand. And, more than that, it's about not losing heart right away.

Fighting a battle against an overwhelming force is one thing when you feel that you are still making progress, that you are not just blindly fighting back. But with Zetsu, you kill one, only to have the exact same body attack you one more. And another. And another.

A wasted effort. At least seeingly. For now, everyone is still in high spirits with the beginning of battle, with a bit of bloodlust maybe, but soon it will fade into weariness, into hopelessness...

At least their forces are organized. It's always easier to keep your head on when there is some semblance of order around you, even amidst the worst kind of chaos.

There are so many unfamiliar faces, from the Sand and the Cloud, but so many old ones as well, so many young ones. How many shinobi have been pulled out of retirement to die on the battlefield after all? And yet, all of them doing this willingly, to give their village, their descendants even a fighting chance?

And how many young ones are not yet ready for this, how many will have their blood spilt, their friends' blood, how many will be traumatized beyond repair by the end of this day?

Jiraiya wonders whether Hiruzen's grandson is here somewhere, fighting tooth and nail for the village he has been named after, barely fourteen years old, twice as old as Kakashi was when he fought in a war, but still too young, always still too young.

Jiraiya is too old for it, though. He's seen too much strife to fool himself into believing that this will be the last battle, this will be the last conflict, this will be the last loved one I have lost.

Jiraiya is old, and he is more willing to sacrifice himself on this battlefield than all of them put together. But first, he is of more use alive. First, he will fight.

The chuunin and the, gods save them, genin are being led by their assigned jounin, but the special jounin have rallied their troops on their own. At their head are Nara Shikaku and Shiranui Genma as well as two kunoichi Jiraiya does not recognize, one from Suna, and one from the Kumo respectively.

He gives Shikaku an acknowledging nod and then breezes past him and finds himself a place among the soldiers, always more comfortable with following than with leading.

“Took some time,“ Kakashi comments dryly but Jiraiya ignores the tone.

“How did it go?” he asks instead and doesn't have to clarify what he is talking about.

“Well enough,” Kakashi admits grudgingly, “He was co-operative. Picked up things incredibly quickly, even without the Sharingan. And his instincts have only sharpened over the years.”

“But?” Jiraiya prompts.

“But I still feel like I've barely scratched the surface when it comes to him,” Kakashi explains, “He was never fighting at full potential. Nowhere near it, in fact.”

“I got the same impression from Naruto,” Jiraiya nods, “So that leaves two possibilities.”

“Either they are holding back because they don't want to expose all their secrets in front of us,” Kakashi says.

“Or their full potential can only be reached when they are fighting side by side,” Jiraiya finishes, “Though I'm guessing it's a little bit of both.”

“Sasuke doesn't have much stamina, though,” Kakashi points out, “Shikamaru is holding him back for now, to conserve his energy.”

“Good,” Jiraiya wouldn't have expected anything else, “Naruto hasn't fully mastered Sage mode yet. We'll have to buy him some more time.”

“So for now we're fighting without our greatest assets,” Kakashi surmizes darkly and Jiraiya sends him a sideways glance.

“What's with the pessimism?” he asks, feigning hurt pride, “I am Jiraiya the Galant, one of the Legendary Sannin. You're Hatake Kakashi of the Sharingan, the Leaf's infamous Copy Cat. I dare say we can hold our own without the help of two little boys.”

“But the Kyuubi would have been a nice ally,” Kakashi quips, yet Jiraiya shakes his head, “Naruto has the Kyuubi's chakra reserves, but he has no true control over it. He'd do more harm than good, both to himself and his surroundings. Especially if Madara should get a hold of him.”

“That might not be as much of a problem as we had feared,” Kakashi reveals then and Jiraiya starts, “What do you mean?”

Suddenly one of Zetsu's incarnation shoots out of the ground before them, leering brightly, and within the blink of an eye Kakashi has put a chidori through him, annoyed at having their conversation interrupted.

“I couldn't quite believe it myself,” he admits grimly, keeping his eyes out for any disturbances that might turn out to be the prelude to the appearance of another Zetsu, “At first I just thought Sasuke was trying to ridicule me.”

“How so?” Jiraiya asks, hackles rising.

“Madara's skills are, of course, on a whole different level,” Kakashi hedges, “But according to Sasuke, Naruto is practically immune to the Sharingan.”

Jiraiya stares.

“How is that possible?” he asks. There are, of course, individuals who have a higher resistance against genjutsu due to natural or trained mental strength – but you didn't just become immune against something as powerful as the Sharingan. Especially since genjutsu had always been Naruto's worst discipline.

“Apparently, Sasuke specifically trained him so he'd be able to break out of illusions and the like,” Kakashi explains wryly, “Which certainly squishes any doubts whether he was controlling Naruto after all.”

Jiraiya has long since given up on that faint hope. But to think that the Uchiha has willingly and systematically robbed himself of his greatest asset, not only when dealing with Naruto, but with the Kyuubi as well... It is mind-boggling.

It also drives home the fact that the game hasn't really begun until all the players are at the scene. Only that this game is a war, and the scene a battlefield.

“Well then,” Jiraiya says resolutely, squaring his broad shoulders, “How about we show these youngsters how a real shinobi fights?”

“I'm not even thirty yet,” Kakashi sighs, but follows him into battle anyway.

 

The thing is, shinobi rarely fight in battles.

For the most part, you fight one-on-one. Sometimes you are outnumbered. Sometimes you do the outnumbering. Sometimes, numbers don't count at all. Sometimes skill doesn't. Sometimes it's all pure dumb luck and the fact that it had rained the night before and your opponent slipped in the mud while you didn't, giving you just a split second more to slit their throat before they your slit yours.

In a smaller skirmish, everything narrows down to the immediate here and now. You and your opponent. Maybe your teammates surrounding you, fighting at the sidelines. Trees and walls and cliffs, potential obstacles all around. The sun blinding you, or rain, or tears, or blood.

But it's a very neat thing, fighting. Adrenaline. Really keeps you focused. Keeps you real.

Steel on steel, skin on skin, steel on skin, in flesh, in bone and and muscle and sinew if you are unlucky. Hands breezing through seals, wielding weapons near visible with the speed of them. Your feet on the ground, fighting for purchase, for leverage, for just a tiny bit of steadiness to reassure you.

And most of all, the elements, shifting all around you, in so many unpredictable ways, always depending on who you are fighting and what their specialities are.

In a true battle, all of those factors change, become bigger, become more dangerous.

There are dozens of people around you, hundreds of them, and you have to take them all into account with every step you take.

There is just so much noise, so much sensory overload. The crackle of Kakashi's lightening, Genma's senbon whizzing through the air, Inuzuka Tsume's triumphant laughter somewhere close, accompanied by the growls of her ninken. His own blood rushing through his veins, pounding in his ears.

The stench of blood, too, and piss and shit and sweat, because dying is never clean, never glorious, even if his novels like to fancy death a more dignified thing, if only to make it less terrifying.

And battle is a dance, though you risk more than just twisting your ankle or getting your toes stepped on, so he moves with the flow as Namino Sousuke lets a wave crash over an approaching flood of Zetsu, so he firmly plants his feet to the ground as an Akemichi kunoichi lets the earth shake around them.

Jiraiya has mastered the elements to an extent where they have become familiar friends, even when they are being turned against him. That is what the teachings of the Great Sage are all about, energy in everything, harmony even as havoc is being wreaked around you.

The roots, he thinks as he weaves his jutsu through the fray, taking out Zetsu whenever one of their own is close to being overtaken.

He's never been a friend of fighting. Of sparring, yes, of dancing. But he's never derived joy from violence, from overexerting himself. His talent is reconnaissance, sitting still and spying, patience, being invisible or charming by turns. He fights with words and with knowledge. A single piece of intel might prevent an entire war or at least a small tragedy.

Now, though, he is nothing but a soldier, a simple tool and one amongst many.

At least he is not killing other people, he thinks with some relief. There is always the thought that the one whose life you have just taken was someone's friend, lover, child. You had no right to them, no true excuse apart from your own bleak survival.

With Zetsu it's just a repeat performance. Hack and slash and cut and burn, until you might as well be facing off against shadow clones, only that even Naruto would be unable to produce as many as this.

It's tedious, but it has to be done. Jiraiya keeps fighting.

 

He doesn't know exactly for how long the battle has gone on, but hours must have passed.

Kakashi, always short on stamina, has already retreated from the battlefield to recuperate, to have the medic nin check him over, to eat something and to piss and just take a fucking breath.

Jiraiya is more enduring, has greater chakra reserves, but now as the third shift of backup arrives to relieve them, he gladly takes this chance to return to camp.

Once there, a young genin hands him a cup of water and she looks rattled but determined so he gives her a solemn nod of gratitude, though his fingers are itching for some sake.

He gradually sips the water, not wanting to upset his stomach, and picks his way through the village, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kakashi or maybe even the Uchiha-

“Jiraiya-dono!” a voice calls out through the buzzing of the returning soldiers and Jiraiya turns to find Umino Iruka briskly walking towards him. And Tsunade has Sakura, had Shizune, but Hiruzen had always been fond of the boy, so Jiraiya already knows what's coming.

“Tsunade-sama requests your presence,” the chuunin explains curtly and then already whirls around and expertly weaves his way through the crowd, occasionally calling out instructions and words of encouragement not only to the attending genin but the other men and women as well.

Jiraiya wonders what it must be like to be the teacher of so many and to worry over every single one of them. Because he's always had his hands full with his genin team and with his wayward orphans, even later with Naruto. But Iruka must have ten times as many children, and he once had to judge which of them were capable enough to kill and die for the village.

How much differently would things have turned out if Naruto had never passed his genin exam? Would the continued disappointment have turned him against Konoha anyway? Or if he had ended up on a different team, would his exposure to Sasuke never have been as severe?

But there are too many could-have-beens, too many wasted chances, and none of them offer any relief.

 

The tent is heavily guarded from all sides, but the sentries don't even bat an eyelash as Iruka breezes past them. Jiraiya follows more slowly, feeling the effort of battle deep in his bones, and ducks into the tent where Iruka is already offering a bow to those present.

Jiraiya exchanges a look with Tsunade-hime, tense but comforting nevertheless, and then inclines his head toward the other two Kage.

Both Temari-sama and A-sama have forgone their robes and are dressed in clothes more comfortable for fighting, even if for the Raikage it means that he is going shirtless, though Jiraiya certainly cannot fault him for that, what with such an imressive built.

The kage are all accompanied by their assistants, though in this case Sakura is absent and Iruka has stepped up to take that role, while the Kazekage has her brother at her side.

Gaara-sama had been the first bijuu to fall at Akatsuki's hands, and the gradual loss of their entire family has etched hard grief into the faces of Temari and Kankuro. Maybe one day, the sands of their home will smooth their expressions down to something more mellow, but now they are still raw and thirsty for justice or revenge, what difference does it make?

The Raikage, however, is here for victory, for success. His brother yet lives, the only vessel beside Naruto still left, and allegedly in full control of the eight-tailed beast.

Kakashi is there as well, his headband pulled down once more to allow his Sharingan some rest, and it is strange to see him coiled with tight attention when usually his shoulders slump and his gait slouches.

There is only one here who does not radiate tension.

“Where's Naruto?” Sasuke nearly drawls, but the question in itself gives away its urgency.

“He will join us as soon as his training is complete,” Jiraiya answers, disinclined to give the Uchiha any reason to make a fuzz.

“Hn,” Sasuke just huffs and looks away again.

“How much longer will this take then?” A-sama demands derisively, “You really want to set all your hopes on two boys? Two deserters?”

“When it comes to Madara, yes,” Tsunade replies with only the barest hint of courtesy in her voice, “A set of Sharingan on our side will even the odds. Just Kakashi is not enough.”

“Still,” Temari says, “There are only two options here. Either you sent the two out on their own, which is foolish. Or you give them backup which is even more foolish, because Naruto has no control over the Kyuubi, and I have seen my brother on a rampage. If the Shukaku could destroy everything within miles, I don't want to know what that fox can do.”

She has a point, of course, but this is a war. All their lives are at risk anyway.

“We have to take this gamble,” Tsunade says and Jiraiya tries not to think of her bad luck when it comes to betting on things.

“When Madara shows up, Sasuke will meet him face-to-face,” she continues resolutely, “Even if Naruto is not back yet, we cannot risk Madara using some collective genjutsu to turn our forces against each other. At least, this might buy us some more time.”

She glances over her shoulder to give the young Uchiha a challenging look, “You think you can do that?”

“I'm not a miracle worker,” Sasuke shrugs, sounding almost bored, “And I barely know anything about Madara. I want a team of Nara to back me up. They can try to hold him down together, take some of his speed. Maybe a few Hyuuga who are familiar with genjutsu. And finally cut out Zetsu's supply, his face is getting annoying.”

“You haven't even fought yet,” Kankuro sneers and Sasuke gives him an unimpressed look because Kankuro hasn't fought yet either.

“We have people working on it,” Iruka cuts in, obviously used to separating pigheaded boys, “Inuzuka Hana's team has found a cavern which seems to contain Zetsu's... methods of procreation.”

“Burn everything,” Sasuke tells them, now with a fierce edge to his voice, “Every little fucking thing. If there is even so much as a spore left, there is a chance that he might just replicate again, and there will be no end to this.”

“You know an awful lot about Akatsuki, don't you, boy?” the Raikage asks suspiciously, but Sasuke just cuts him a glare.

“When my brother died,” he bites out as though it had not been him who killed Uchiha Itachi, “He transferred me his memories. Of his time in Konoha, and with Akatsuki. Every sordid little secret.”

There seems to be more to it, more than he cares to disclose, but then he just gives another careless shrug, “He didn't know much about Madara, though. So don't get your hopes up yet.”

“Why are you here then?” Temari wants to know, her green eyes sharp and unrelenting, “Why are you here if everything is such a chore?”

“Huh,” Sasuke angles his head to the side as though this entire conversation were beneath him.

“Same reason all of you are,” he replies plainly, “There's something I have to protect.”

They all tense when suddenly someone stumbles into the the tent.

“Tsunade-sama!” the frazzled-looking messenger bursts out and they all prepare themselves for the worst. Instead, they get a pleasant surprise.

“The Rock and the Mist have arrived!”

 

Their relief is short-lived.

It seems that the enemy has only waited for the allied forces to properly join before he made his move.

They've barely re-organized in an attempt to distribute the armies of Kirigakure and Iwagakure when the frantic message reaches them that Madara has been sighted at the outskirts of the battlefield.

If he had wanted he could have marched right in and done as much destruction as he wished before anyone could so much as blink, but it appears that he wants to lure them out, wants them to sent their best and brightest. Wants them to sent the bijuu.

The Raikage is doing his damnest to keep his volatile younger brother at bay, though, and for now Naruto is safe in another realm. So instead, Madara will get a surprise. Madara will get Sasuke.

The small elite that Sasuke requested eyes him with some unease, but they know better than to object, especially when Kakashi and Jiraiya are along for the ride. Still, there are some internal conflicts to settle first.

“My younger daughter would be better suited for this task,” Hyuuga Hisashi informs Kakashi and behind him Hinata shrinks a little.

Kakashi gives Hisashi an unimpressed look, “Your younger daughter is still a genin.”

“My nephew then,” the man tries again, but this time he is cut off by someone else.

“She was taught by Yuuhi Kurenai,” Sasuke says grimly, “She knows her way around genjutsu. So let her fight.”

Hisashi bristles, but doesn't talk back. Sasuke gives Hinata a level stare and when he turns away, she stands just a tiny bit taller.

So maybe they have more things in common than just their infatuation with Naruto, Jiraiya thinks, but doesn't waste more thought on it.

Luckily, the rest of the team is more balanced. Shikamaru is there as well as Shikaku with his sister Nara Shimizu, as well as Kakashi's ANBU partner Tenzou. It is, quite possibly, one of the finest special ops team Jiraiya has ever been part of.

But it stands to reason whether it will be enough to even slow down a near immortal, over-powered maniac like Uchiha Madara.

Kakashi leads them, though this is a team where everyone has to make their own calls as well. Yet Tenzou and the Nara are only there to try and hold Madara down, while the Hyuuga are meant to supervise. Kakashi and Sasuke will have to face down this improbably incarnation of the Sharingan, but Jiraiya is not yet sure what his own part will be. Damage control maybe. Recklessly jumping in when everyone else is busy.

He's good at talking, too. Good at making megalomaniacs spill their evil plans. Surely, someone like Madara will like to brag. Surely, he'll expose some weaknesses.

Surely, Jiraiya has read too many of his own novels if he actually believes that if could be that easy.

 

They make their way across the battlefield, not even trying to be subtle. After all, Madara isn't being subtle either, standing vain and proud and larger than life, overseeing everything.

“It's him,” Hisashi informs them when he checks for illusions from afar, scoping out the area, “His corporeal form.”

“Stop,” Hinata suddenly says and it's the determination in her voice more than the order itself that actually makes them all come to a halt.

“What is it?” her father asks, rather impatiently, and she purses her lips.

“It's his real form, but there's still a genjutsu there,” she explains, Byakugan white and fierce as she seems to pick apart the thin air, “I can't quite...”

“It's the distance,” Sasuke says, his eyes flashing red, “He seems like he is far away, but he's actually much closer than that. Gives him the element of surprise while protecting him at the same time. Smart.”

The boy sounds almost impressed, but then he smirks lightly, “But not smart enough.”

Simultaneously, they all lift their hands and flick through the seal to dispell the illusion, and jerk back at once.

Because Madara is closer now, much closer, and they would have run right into his trap if Hinata hadn't noticed.

“Saved our asses,” Shimizu praises and firmly claps Hinata on the back. The girls blushes slightly, but gives a tight nod.

“Are you stopping to admire the scenery?” a sudden voice asks from behind, but it's familiar enough not to scare them.

Sakura stands behind them with her hands on her hips and a cocked eyebrow.

“Sakura,” Kakashi says with a frown, “What are you doing here?”

Yet the girl only gives him a pointed look.

“Not to dent your egos,” she snorts, “But you don't actually think that you're not gonna need a medic, are you?” 

“Dammit,” Shikamaru curses under his breath, “I knew I forgot something.”

“Better this than your mother's birthday,” Shikaku says wryly as though his wife were more dangerous than Uchiha Madara could ever be.

It makes things easier to think like that. To joke around and be cocky and act unafraid. Because fear is catching, is a disease, and once you've got it, it will sicken you, cripple you, kill you.

“Wimp,” Shimizu chuckles and kicks her brother in the butt.

Then it's back to business for all of them.

After all, insane tyrants with a god complex do not like to be kept waiting.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Nara Shimizu should totally be a thing.
> 
> Next chapter has angst and death and injuries, so be prepared.  
> This is probably the point where I should confess that I don't really know what happened in the war arc of the manga. I know I read up to Neji's death and then some, but afterwards? No clue. The whole stint with Obito? A godess? What?  
> I'll try to incorporate some of it into this story, but writing battle scenes is tedious so it won't be as drawn out as it was in canon. Hope that's okay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of necessity and obvious reasons, the fight against Madara has been shortened to almost nothing. As I have not really read the last sequences of the manga, I mostly have no idea how the whole Madara/Obito/Kabuto shindig worked. And honestly, I have no plan on getting my head around it. So here it just the briefest outline of the fight, bijuu and goddesses pretty much excluded. Overpowered enemies get so boring, and I just wanted a mostly hands-on fight. So sorry, more canon divergence up ahead, but this time out of laziness.

Their ten-men cell – Jiraiya sways between calling them Team Masterplan or Team Foolhardy – closes in on Madara quickly enough.

Jiraiya's eyes are keen, and even from afar he had been able to ascertain what he had feared before. The summons Madara thrones upon, elevated above the battle, is not merely any summons. It is a bijuu.

The Shukaku, to be precise, and Jiraiya thinks of a young boy filled with hatred, a boy who strove to be a the monster he people called him, a boy who clashed with Naruto and was forever changed. A boy who lived to be Kazekage. A boy who died alone.

That story could've belonged to Naruto, or very nearly.

For a moment, Jiraiya entertains the thought of what might have happened if Naruto had never left Konoha. Would he have faced a similar fate as Gaara? Or, even more fanciful, would Naruto have been the key factor that would have enabled Gaara's rescue? But as always, there is no way to answer these wistful questions, so Jiraiya focuses to the things he can see, the things he can touch, the things he can kill.

Madara has the Shukaku. He also has six other tailed beasts. He does not have the Hachibi and the Kyuubi. He cannot fuse them into the ultimate mystical form. He has no control over the Juubi.

Small mercies. Kushina and Minato had died just to seal the Ninetails. How on earth was their little team to battle seven of these creatures on a moment's notice?

They have come to a stop in front of him, spread out and tense, uneasy. With one swipe of his giant paw, Shukaku could crush them all. He doesn't, though, under tight control by Madara, trembling with it.

Kakashi, Sasuke and Jiraiya stand up front, backed up by the three Nara. Hinata and Hisashi are back-to-back, covering each other's blind spots and keeping a close eye on everything around them. Sakura stays by their side, their only medic and thus too valuable to expose. Tenzou stays away farther still, not out of sight, but meant to reserve his energy until Naruto appears and the Kyuubi might need controlling.

If there is only one thing Jiraiya has managed to teach most of his students, and thus Minato, and Kakashi, and Sasuke, is how to look blasé in the face of danger. Don't move a muscle, don't twitch. Your strategy does not just depend on your jutsu and your weapons, but your facial expressions, the direction of your gaze. No matter what battle you are fighting, lethal or romantic, your own feelings will always be your greatest foe.

Don't let your anger consume you. Don't let your panic show. Breathe. Breathe. Wait. Observe.

So they stand, old and young and almost a boy still, and wear identical expressions of... not boredom, not foolish underestimation, but blandness. Not at ease but not visibly alert either. Emotionally unattached.

They maintain they maintain their masks even as Madara, in one swift movement vaults off the Shukaku and, a split second later, lands in front of them, barely even stirring the dust as his feet hit the ground.

It turns out that they are blessed with another small mercy because, just like the villains in Jiraiya's books, Madara likes to talk.

“Ah,” the man that should be dead ten times over says with haughty pleasure, “The last of my kin.”

A slow smirk distorts his face.

“Well,” he amends and his gaze flickers a taunt towards Kakashi, “Almost.”

Kakashi's Sharingan is already exposed, but his eye doesn't narrow.

“My clan is dead,” Sasuke says, “You would do well to join them.”

Madara just smiles eerily, “Not before re-uniting you with your dear parents, I should think. And your beloved brother.”

If Sasuke is still affected by mentions of Uchiha Itachi then his face doesn't give it away.

“Let's see who dies first,” he challenges instead and then Hell breaks lose.

 

The battle goes as planned. There are no miracles, not even pause for breath, but their strategy holds up well enough.

Still, it's obvious enough that Madara is only toying with them. Otherwise he's just sic the Shukaku on them and be done with it. He probably gets a sick satisfaction out of fighting the remaining Sharingan users.

The Nara's binding jutsu only slows him down a little, but it's the split second that saves their lives time and time again.

Hinata and Hisashi are standing back to back, keeping their Byakugan out for any unexpected attacks.

“Down!” Hinata warns suddenly and everyone obeys.

From behind them, a wave of fire washes over the team and they all duck out of the path of destruction. Shikaku, however, is a moment too late, just enough so that his high ponytail catches fire.

“Suits you, nii-san,” Shimizu cackles after she has drenched him with a minor water jutsu, and the remains of his hair hang frizzled and wet.

Kakashi and Sasuke have engaged Madara in hand-to-hand combat and Jiraiya finds himself awed by the teamwork that they have developed in just those short days of training. Together, they anticipate not only Madara's movements and intercept it, but also move in-tune with each other.

Once more, Jiraiya is reminded of a dance. The Uchiha had always been graceful dancers. Fire was a destructive force, after all, but beautiful still. It could flicker and blaze, grow and wane as needed. You can try to punch a flame, but the moving air will only make it dance out of your reach and then come back stronger than ever.

Finally, Madara's patience seems to be wearing thin. His main goal, after all, is to get his hands on the Kyuubi in order to morph all of the tailed beasts. And he must know that Naruto is their strongest piece in this game.

First, he decides to get rid of those he deems pawns.

With a sudden dash, he breaks free of the combined attacks Sasuke and Kakashi are raining on his, breaks free of the three-fold shadows that are holding him. He shakes them off as though they were nothing and with cold certainty Jiraiya realizes that they never held much power over him in the first place.

The attack comes seemingly out of nowhere.

“Shik-” Hisashi barely gets out, but then Shikaku already yells in pain and goes down, clutching on to his left leg. It's twisted, the broken bones piercing through flesh and fabric and, within seconds, the dark pants are are dripping with blood.

An assault from below, Jiraiya suspects, though he can't quiet pinpoint what kind of jutsu it was exactly.

Sakura is already by Shikaku's side, Shimizu and Shikamaru crowding close to shield them.

“He needs a transfusion, and quick,” Sakura relates with a pinch to her lips, deft hands already administering a tourniquet, “Someone has to take him back to camp.”

“Baa-san,” Shikamaru addresses his aunt, “You should do it.”

Yet Shimizu looks conflicted between wanting to save her brother and staying here in order to protect his only son.

“At this point, you wouldn't be much help here anyway,” Shikamaru tells her bluntly, but urgently.

It's not a lie. Both Nara Shimizu and Shikaku are damn fine shinobi, yet their abilities pale in comparison to the rest of the team, especially now that their shadow jutsu proved to be next to useless. They don't stand a chance against Madara.

“Dammit,” Shimizu curses and hoists her brother over her shoulder, “You better not die, boy. Your mother _is_ scary, you know.”

But then she is already taking off.

In the meanwhile, Sasuke and Kakashi keep up their relentless attacks.

But they mustn't, Jiraiya thinks. Neither of them is known for their stamina in battle, and the Sharingan drains too much chakra as it is.

He's been helping from the sidelines, tripping Madara up with simple little tricks, child's play really, but sometimes just the thing to save Kakashi from getting his neck broken, Sasuke from having his eyes gorged out. But he finally needs to properly engage, even if only to buy the others some time, give them time to catch their breath.

Their team is already two men down, even though no one has died. No one has died yet, and Jiraiya knows how unlikely it is to stay that way.

But instead of losing players, a new piece is added to the board.

“There's a ripple in the air,” Hinata warns, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, and everyone stiffens.

Out of nothingness, the masked man that Jiraiya has so far failed to gather useful intel on materializes on the sidelines.

He's Akatsuki, that much they know, made obvious enough by the red-clouded coat he is wearing, but his identity, his motives, his strengths and weaknesses are a mystery still.

He must be on Madara's side, doubtlessly, because an unexpected ally would be too good to be true. But he does not immediately attack their team, so that at least is a relief.

“Kakashi,” the man says, and his voice is unfamiliar, so Kakashi's shoulder tense, but otherwise he does not react, just keeps his eyes on Madara.

Yet already Jiraiya is wrecking his brain because there is no reason for any of them being singled out. Jiraiya, yes, for being a sannin. Tenzou due to his connection to the First. And Sasuke for being an Uchiha and the supposed master of the Kyuubi, but Madara has already done so.

Why now, why Kakashi, what was his connection to the masked man who went by the name of Tobi and who had no right to be Akatsuki, no reason, no history, so why-

Within a flash, the masked man has inserted himself into the space between Kakashi and Madara. The Uchiha does not seem surprised, but both Sasuke and Kakashi quickly retreat, crouching back and watching wearily.

“Do what you must,” Madara drawls, “But don't distract from my fight.”

The man doesn't show any signs of acknowledgment, apart from lifting a gloved hand and slowly removing the mask from his face. Underneath, it is scarred and deformed, one half sunken in, but it's his eyes that make everyone suck in a breath.

A Sharigan on the left, and Jiraiya thinks of Danzou and Root and transplantation, but the right is a Rinnegan, a Rinnegan as only Nagato had one.

But of course, after their attack Konoha Nagato must have been weakened, close to death even. Akatsuki have taken his eyes, harvesters that they are, and Jiraiya is furious, livid for the sake of three orphans that deserved so much more than what fate had allotted them. But then he comes up short.

Because Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi who keeps a cool head no matter what, Kakashi is utterly, utterly still-

“Obito,” Kakashi whispers brokenly and everything falls apart.

All of a sudden, Madara's words from before finally make sense. Because while the Sharingan does not make Kakashi kin, there is still one more Uchiha left, a forgotten one, believed dead and gone, grieved for as a friend and just another casualty of just another war.

Jiraiya knew the story, of course, had heard it from Minato, and later on even from Kakashi himself.

How can he be alive, Jiraiya wonders, even if lately he has come face to face with many people who, by all means, should have been dead.

“Kakashi,” Uchiha Obito rasps, “Did you miss me?”

But then is is already in front of Kakashi, and Kakashi jerks back, but too slow, still caught in the grasp of surprise and painful memories, caught in Obito's grasp as he puts his hand on him.

Once more, the air ripples, whirls, and then Kakashi and Obito are sucked into another dimension.

No, Jiraiya's mind yells feebly. No no no.

Because this is Madara's plan. Split them up, wear them thin. Death is not the only thing to tear apart a team.

With Kakashi gone, most of the weight will rest on Sasuke's shoulders. And like this, Madara must suspect, Naruto will come to his aid more quickly.

Jiraiya can only pray that the boy will have the patience to finish his training first, pray that he masters it at all, that-

“Too-san!” Hinata screeches.

It's the kind of scream that makes the blood freeze in your veins, the one where when you hear it you already know what you will see before you have even turned around.

What Jiraiya sees, familiar enough with death to keep his calm by analyzing the scene, is that Hyuuga Hisashi has been pierced through the chest by a spike of stone. Looking like an off-kilter stalagmite, it must have thrust up from the ground in the space between father and daughter, when their backs were turned, just in the moment when their blind-spots coincided with one another.

Hisashi's left lung must be shredded, Jiraiya thinks, and his heart damaged. His spine maybe.

And he is no medic, but what he can't judge himself he can easily read in Sakura's expression as she examines the head of the Hyuuga, Hinata hovering close, hiding the lower half of her face in her trembling hands.

Already, Hisashi has gone deathly pale, as though the Byakugan were seeping into his skin. He is rasping and coughing up blood, the specks joining the spreading red already on his chest.

“Hinata,” he whispers feebly, pulling her closer by the sleeve.

“Too-san,” Hinata whispers. She's trying to keep up a brave face, as she has doubtlessly been taught by her father himself, but the tears are spilling over nevertheless.

“My child,” he tells her, something like a wry smile twisting his lips, “My eldest child. You are... the future of the Hyuuga now. You are my heir.”

“No,” Hinata shakes her head, dark hair flying, “Hanabi-chan is-”

“Too young,” Hisashi says, “Too hot-headed. You are... kind, but brave. I see that now. I see... my mistakes. All my life with these eyes, but only now I-”

He breaks off, coughs again. Sakura is running green hands over him, but it's mostly a pretense. She cannot waste chakra on a dying man. The only thing she can do is soothe his pain a little, give him some more moments, some peace of mind.

“Tell your sister,” Hisashi says, and his gaze is dim now, his words faint, “Tell your cousin. You are all of the Hyuuga. You are all...”

Jiraiya closes his eyes, just for a moment. There is no time to grieve fallen friends in battle, but the last he can do is honor one of Konoha's great ones by not letting his last words go unheard amidst the sound of war.

Hinata is openly sobbing now and Sakura hugs her close, even as they are both tense in anticipation of more attacks.

The fact that Madara had so easily outwitted the combined Byakugan shows that he is merely a cat playing with a couple of mice. In his eyes, they are all already dead anyway.

“Keep your calm,” Jiraiya says. It's a warning to himself and to Shikamaru next to him. The boy is shaking, barely holding on to his shadow jutsu that nips at Madara's feet here and there.

Right now, the Nara must be thinking of how close he had gotten to losing his father, how he might lose him still. After all, they have no way of knowing whether Shimizu safely made it back to the camp, whether Shikaku hasn't bled before that.

“We have to do something,” Shikamaru's voice is strained. Tenzou has taken up the slack of the other two Nara by also helping to slow down Madara, though his vines are also in danger of getting in Sasuke's way, too.

“Sasuke's already slowing down, and physically I can't hold out for much longer either,” Shikamaru grits out, “Hinata will be out of it, and I don't want Sakura to wear herself down. Not that it matters, if we all die before that.”

“You children take a break then,” Jiraiya says, squaring his shoulders, “It's time for the old man to fight.”

 

It's a good fight. For someone like Jiraiya, sparring has become something of a leisure. He has to keep on his toes but he rarely learns anything new nowadays. So it'd be an honor and a pleasure to fight someone so skilled, so experienced. If only Madara weren't out to kill him.

He only seems vaguely annoyed that he has to make do with Jiraiya for an opponent, though it is rather refreshing to meet someone who is not impressed when facing one of the Legendary Sannin.

But while Sasuke is clearly exhausted, hanging behind now, Madara shows no signs of slowing down.

Jiraiya is helpfully being supplanted by Sage Mode, and he and Madara wave in and out of attacks like reeds in the wind. Deadly reeds with sharp metal blades, and occasional bursts of fire and lightening.

Like this, Jiraiya can keep fighting for hours, but Madara's strengths and secrets are an unknown variable. For now he seems content with just waiting for Naruto to show up. But if he wanted to, he could speed up the process. If he wanted to, he could probably wipe them out with one swipe of his hand.

Fortunately, it doesn't come to that.

There is a rumble, like a mild earthquake, and then a shadow falls across the plains.

For a split second, Jiraiya is confronted with a ghost.

For Namikaze Minato stands proud and tall atop Gamabunta's back, coat whipping in the wind and blond hair gleaming under the sun.

But no, he reminds himself with brutal finality. Minato is long since dead.

Yet Naruto is more than an echo of his father, more than the shadow of the Uchiha. And he has grown into a man Jiraiya may never have the pleasure of getting to know closely, the privilege of figuring him out, but for now it is enough to lay eyes on him like this, an honor to bathe in his glory.

Even from this far away, Jiraiya can tell that his student has finally mastered Sage Mode. He had hoped, of course, but there had been the chance that Naruto had fallen for Madara's plan to lure him out early. Patience, after all, had never been one of Naruto's strong suits.

Within a blink, Sasuke is with him. Once upon a time, he might have been Orochimaru's thrall, but he had chosen to enthrall instead. There are no snakes now, but even Gamabunta's presence is more of a afterthought, as they throne side by side, elevated above the rest of them, face to face with Madara and the Shukaku.

Unlike during the moments of their parting, there are no kisses now, not even any words. Instead they simply exchange a single look, lingering and longing. War does not leave much room for romance, Jiraiya knows. Their true incentive for battle must be that, after this, they might finally find some peace of their own, finally not threatened by Akatsuki, finally not followed by Konoha.

If they survive – _when_ , Jiraiya prays faintly, when they survive – there will be time for more. He cannot fault them for this, and he will challenge them no longer. They have made their choice and it does not include the involvement of the Leaf. But neither does it demand its downfall.

So for now, Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke, missing nin and lost boys that they are, decide to fight alongside their former village.

They move in sync. If Jiraiya had been impressed by the complementary fighting Sasuke and Kakashi had managed to strike up within only a couple of days, then this transcends everything.

For all that shinobi fancy their teamwork, the truth is that it often becomes a liability. No team is ever truly balanced, especially the older you grow, the more often you are paired up with near strangers. It's difficult to follow orders from captains you barely know, difficult to integrate someone else's jutsu into your own style of fighting.

They had thought that the Hyuuga fighting back-to-back would overcome the one weakness of the Byakugan, yet they had been proven wrong easily enough and paid for it with a life. No combination was ever flawless, no team didn't have its seams at which it could be torn apart.

Sasuke and Naruto are seamless. As they advance on Madara, they move as one being in two bodies.

Vaguely Jiraiya wonders whether their hearts beat in tune, whether they lungs draw breath in the same pattern. Whether they will cease beating, breathing as the same time, too.

Madara may not have realized any of this, may not yet understand the true extent of their dedication to one another, so he searches for an opening, any rift where he might stick his blade or his silver tongue.

The giants clash atop the back of the Shukaku while the mere mortals can only watch from down below.

Sasuke is facing Madara head-on, their katana clashing, throwing sparks.

“You could be strong, boy,” Madara tells hims, with a smirk, “Invincible. Just one small sacrifice. Your brother did it. Your brother was smart and strong-”

“My brother wasn't invincible,” Sasuke replies, pushing back, “But we are!”

Because Sasuke may not have the Mangekyou Sharingan, but he has Naruto.

And Naruto is waiting at the sideline, tripled by kage bunshin, has created a Rasengan, but modified, spiked with wind chakra, and Sasuke jumps back out out of Madara's reach, instead lighting up a Chidori in his left hand and starting to feed it into the Rasengan, fusing wind and thunder into a terrible storm.

They could raze forests like that, Jiraiya marvels, even level mountains. And never has there been such beauty in destruction.

Madara dodges, of course he does, he must have recognized the force of that thing easily enough.

But Naruto's bunshin, still holding the storm in their hands, surge forward and then split up, left and right, cornering Madara from two sides. The jutsu becomes smaller like that, loses some of its lightening after the separation from Sasuke, but it is still magnificent, still dangerous.

Madara evades one bunshin, knocks it out, but before it has even evaporated, the second one hits him in the arm. Upon impact, the limb warps and positively explodes, the clone right alongside it.

Madara doesn't yell in pain, doesn't even look surprised. But his smirk has turned into a grit of his teeth now, as though the lost arm were a mere inconvenience.

The wound doesn't even bleed, but the Jiraiya does a double-take, because it looks like he wound is closing. No, not closing. The limb is growing back, all of its own. How, he wonders, how can that possibly-

“You may think that the boy is under your command,” Madara tells Sasuke with a chuckle, “But you haven't made use of his real potential yet. You haven't enslaved the Kyuubi.”

His eyes sear red and Naruto stiffens. But it's an attentive sort of stillness, not freezing under the onslaught of a mind jutsu, not overtaken by someone's will. He's fighting it, Jiraiya realizes. Naruto had truly learned to withstand the Sharingan, just like Kakashi had said.

Now it is Sasuke's turn to offer a derisive chuckle.

“You'll have to try harder than that,” he says, and Madara bares his teeth.

“Very well,” he replies, but instead of keeping his focus on Naruto, his scarlet gaze cuts away and lands on someone else instead. Tenzou gives a small noise of surprise, but then he is already lifting his arms, hands flashing through some seals. A second later, his vines shoot up and towards Naruto.

Hashirama's powers managed to hold the Kyuubi at bay. But they might tickle him out as well.

Naruto and Sasuke slash at them, but there are so many, so many, and then it seems like they are coming from Madara as well, as though he, too, carried some part of the First within him.

Within seconds, Naruto is completely ensnared in the suffocating vines, and they keep squeezing and squeezing, cutting off his air.

“Naruto,” Sasuke warns level, though there is a hint of urgency in his tone, “Don't let the Fox out. Don't play into his game.”

“I know,” Naruto grits out, straining against his living cage, “Easier said than done.”

For the Kyuubi has a mind of his own and he wants to live, even if only within the confines of a young boy. Red chakra starts wafting up, like red mist, growing thicker by the second. The blue of Naruto's eyes flickers into a fiery red and back again, his nails and incisors become longer, sharper, until they look like claws and fangs.

Jiraiya has witnessed the transformation of a jinjuuriki before, but never that of the Kyuubi. Never on a beloved face.

“Think of after,” Sasuke tells Naruto calmly, even as his kunai hacks away at the vines, “Think of when we are done here. Think of the places we still want to go. Think of _me_.”

It's keeping Naruto at bay, Jiraiya can see that. But it's still not enough.

In that moment, several different things happen very quickly.

First of all, Sakura knocks out Tenzou with a well-placed fist to the face, effectively breaking his jutsu. Shikamaru uses the multitude of shadows from the vines to give a short but vicious jerk that makes Madara nearly lose his footing. Hinata jumps into the semi-stagnant fray and engages the old Uchiha in swift hand-to-hand combat, trying to hit his pressure points.

She's no match for him. No mere mortal is a match for Uchiha Madara, and now she must be driven by her fresh grief over her father's death as well as her lingering affection for Naruto. It is a noble plan, but foolish.

Before long, Madara has backhanded her so hard that she is flung back. Before she can get up again, he is in front of her, lifting his katana.

“You'll die here,” he tells her, indifferently, “Just like your father.”

“Then I'll die having done the right thing,” she grits out, and her pale eyes flicker over to Naruto, just for one moment.

But before the blade can come down, everyone else flies into action. Jiraiya appears behind Madara and holds his sword arm in a vice grip while Shikamaru's shadows, too, holds him under control. Sasuke has jumped in between Madara and Hinata, his own katana lifted. Sakura grabs Hinata and vaults off again in barely a blink.

For having been cut down to half their number, their teamplay is definitely at its best.

“You foolish boy,” Madara tells Sasuke and gives a jerk, freeing himself of Jiraiya's hold. It's forceful enough, though, so both Jiraiya and Sasuke can jump out of reach.

This time, he makes for Jiraiya, probably annoyed by the constant interference of someone he is not interested in. Jiraiya evades him time and time again, trying to lure him away from Sasuke to buy the boy some time. But this time it is Madara who trumps him.

He sheathes his sword and flies through a handful of seals. Another attack of vines, Jiraiya notes and steels himself. But it's not him the jutsu focuses on.

Instead, the vines shoot directly at Naruto who is still fighting against his confines, but cannot get free, cannot move out of the way. And there is no time, no time for Jiraiya to intercept the assault, he's too far away. Sakura, Hinata and Shikamaru are too far away, Naruto will die, Minato's son will-

“Naruto!” Sasuke yells and flings himself into the path of the attack. He breathes out fire as he goes and most of the vines are set ablaze. Some of them sizzle and diminish, but the bigger ones, the tenacious ones do not even pause.

The vines pierce Sasuke's body and the Kyuubi's chakra flares up like up a forest fire.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited finale! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and left kudos, I've been majorly procrastinating everything else and instead writing seven different fanfics. Ugh. I feel the love, but it hurts my fingers.   
> Anyway, please enjoy!

How ridiculous, Jiraiya thinks, faint and distant. The vines wouldn't even truly have harmed Naruto, considering that the Kyuubi could just heal him within seconds. And Madara would not have wanted to kill the jinjuuriki because that only would have cost him the bijuu inside. So he'd only meant for Naruto to lose control, as he had all along.

Sasuke must've known that. Sasuke wasn't stupid, after all. So why, why would he jump in between, why would he take an attack that for him would turn out to be lethal?

Jiraiya has to shake his head at his own continuous denial.

Hinata had tried to save Naruto out of love. Was it so hard to believe that Sasuke would do the same?

With a final burst of chakra, Naruto rids himself of the vines that had been wrapped so tightly around his body. Sasuke stumbles back, wavers, and falls right into his outstretched arms.

“Shikamaru, Hinata,” Jiraiya says and hears his own voice from far away, “Get Tenzou out of here.”

They both start, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

“The mission,” Shikamaru objects, but Jiraiya shakes his head at him, “Has changed its course. You need to report back to the Kage.”

“You need backup,” Hinata insists, though the words quaver before they even leave their mouth.

“No back-up,” Jiraiya replies, “In fact, get everyone as far away as the battle allows.”

Because they are dealing with a time bomb, and the seconds keep ticking away.

Shikamaru curses quietly, but grits his teeth before signaling Hinata to join him. Between them, they heave up Tenzou's slack body.

“Hokage-sama won't like this,” the Nara warns Jiraiya about what he already knows. Then they take off.

Naruto, in the meanwhile, has lowered Sasuke to the ground. Madara is watching from a comfortable distance, probably satisfied that soon, very soon the Kyuubi will break free.

“You bastard,” Naruto bites out, shaking hands skimming over the various puncture wounds across Sasuke's torso, “Why did you do that, you needn't have-, why do you always-”

“Heh,” instead of replying, Sasuke just gives a faint chuckle, little more than a breath really, and a trickle of blood spills from the corner of his mouth. His hand comes up to cup the back of Naruto's neck, fingers tangling in the sweat-soaked hair. He can't possibly have enough energy left to pull him down, but Naruto goes with it anyway as if drawn in by an invisible force.

“Usuratonkachi,” Sasuke whispers against his lips in this not-quite-a-kiss and then turns his head away to start coughing up blood.

“Sasuke,” Naruto says, his voice the quality of quivering autumn leaves. But the Uchiha just shakes and stills and closes his eyes.

“Sasuke,” Naruto repeats and begins shaking him, “Sasuke, wake up!”

He whips his head around, tear-blind eyes searching out Sakura.

“Heal him!” he demands, obviously not understanding why she hasn't done so yet, “He's still breathing! Help him before he dies!”

Yet Sakura stands frozen as a pillar of salt, her eyes wide but hard, and her jaw clenches in tandem with her fists by her side.

“Do something!” Naruto yells now, “You have to! He'll die if you don't!”

Sakura gives the faintest shake of her head, barely even noticeable if it weren't for the fact how her gaze returns Naruto's in grim determination.

“Please,” the boy tries anyway, and his tears spill over now, hot and helpless, “You are a medic! You swore an oath!”

But Sakura only shakes her head again, more vehemently this time.

“That only came later,” she says, “First, I made a promise to myself. First, I swore that I would do anything to free you of him.”

“I am free!” Naruto bursts out, “Why don't you people just get that?! And if I'm not, no one is! We are all burdened by promises! Yes, I am bound to him, indebted to him – but I am with him out of my own free will!”

“He made you believe that,” Sakura tells him, fighting to remain reasonable, “He just wanted to use you.”

“What use would I have been to him?” Naruto yells, “I was deadlast. Everyone hated me. He just wanted a friend, just like I did.”

It's something that Jiraiya has already made peace with. Back then, Sasuke had no real way of knowing that Naruto was a jinjuuriki, so he couldn't have gone after him just for the Kyuubi. And both boys were so confused that they had no idea how much of themselves they were allowed to offer, to give away to make a friendship work.

Yet no one else seems to accept this easy if painful truth.

“He monopolized you,” Sakura is crying now as well, but her face is hard as marble, “Even when we were barely a team, he-”

“He listened!” Naruto snaps furiously, “He listened when barely anyone else did! He looked at me! He touched me! No one so much as smiled at me, but he did. He called me his friend, when everyone else thought me a monster.”

“That's not true,” Sakura insists, though she must know that it's a feeble lie, “It was- we tried to- There were others who cared for you!”

“I had to die to make anyone acknowledge me!” Naruto reminds her, reminds all of them, “I almost died for Iruka-sensei! I almost died for you and for baa-chan, just for the knowledge that my life would have been good for something! That some of you might actually be grateful for what I did!”

“But Sasuke-” Sakura tries, but she is overridden by the force of Naruto's monsoon.

“Sasuke never expected me to sacrifice myself! Sasuke wanted me to get stronger, maybe for his sake, but for my own as well. And he's protected me, so many times I lost count years ago! He would have given his life for me back on that bridge with Haku. And now he did it again. And I cannot lose him, I cannot, he's the only thing that's ever been good about my life. You have to save him, you have to, I'll kill you if you don't-”

And Naruto had never been a monster, not as a child, not even when the Kyuubi's chakra ate away at his flesh and his sanity, but now, now as he is consumed by incomprehensible rage, he is turning into a creature that Jiraiya does no recognize anymore.

Within a flash, Naruto has finally left Sasuke's side, only to come to a sudden stop in front of Sakura. Out of reflex, she immediately brings her fists up, but then his hand already closes around her neck and lifts her up from the ground.

She chokes and kicks out, but Naruto's eyes are red now and his teeth exposed in a sneer, while his fingernails, his claws dig into the pale skin of her neck.

Jiraiya doesn't hesitate. He grabs Naruto's wrist and twists, forcing him to let go of the girl, forcing him backwards, forcing him to his knees if he doesn't want his arm broken.

Yet Naruto is beyond reason now. He lashes out and his bone snaps under the pressure of Jiraiya's grip. The boy doesn't even blink, just swipes his other hand at Jiraiya and breaks free.

Sakura has caught her breath again, though she still looks rattled, and together they oppose Naruto who is now fully engulfed in angry red chakra.

His feral eyes watch them, cautious and calculating, but then some part of him seems to decide that they are not worth it. Instead, he returns to where the Uchiha is still steadily bleeding out, dropping to his knees next to him.

His arm is already healed again, sped up by the pulse of the Kyuubi's power, and he puts his hands to the gaping hole in his side. Sakura sucks in a breath though it rattles her hurt throat, but Jiraiya can only stare.

Because what Naruto is attempting to do is unimaginable. No one has ever heard of it before. A bijuu's chakra generally even burns the body of its own vessel. How on earth could it be transferred to another person, how could it possibly be used for healing jutsu?

But that is what Naruto is doing. Channeling the Fox's chakra into his palms and running them over the wound. It closes up faster than any medic nin could ever hope for, leaving behind not scar tissue, but slightly pink yet healthy looking skin.

With something between urgency and utter concentration, Naruto repeats the process with all the other wounds, big and small. They all heal. But he doesn't stop there, just keeps going, until Sasuke starts breathing easy again, until color returns to his face, until his fingers twitch and his eyelids flutter.

When he opens them, his irises are gleaming red. But it is not the red of the Sharingan.

“Impossible,” Jiraiya mutters. But there, slowly rising to his feet and squaring his shoulders, stands the living proof.

It had been hard to believe that Naruto would be able to resist the Sharingan. But this, this is something else entirely.

The Kyuubi does not like Sasuke, or me for that matter, Jiraiya remembers Naruto saying. So he wonders whether the Ninetail's instincts of survival are just this strong – or whether maybe his dislike of the boys was never as fierce as Naruto seemed to think.

Engulfed by the Kyuubi's dancing chakra, Sasuke and Naruto exchange a long silent look. Then they turn to face Madara.

He's been waiting for them, but now that it is time he no longer seems to know what exactly does await him. In the past, he has successfully controlled the Kyuubi. But this is not the past. This is something new, something dangerous.

“I do not fear you,” he claims, haughty and hateful, his eyes spinning red once more.

They are his last words. After that, there is only the sound of fighting, then dying. Then there is the sound of death. There is silence.

 

 

Jiraiya holds vigil outside the hospital door. Nurses and medic nin flit by in irregular intervals, but no one spares him a glance. They cannot see him and even if they could, they are too busy taking care of the wounded to waste even a single moment.

Behind that door, Naruto and Sasuke are recuperating from their fight. Moments after Madara had finally perished, they had broken down and lost consciousness, depleted of the Kyuubi's chakra and thus falling like puppets with cut strings.

Sakura had made sure that they were stable and then the two of them had returned the boys to the camp.

Shortly after Madara's demise, Zetsu's roots had been destroyed as well. The battle, as it seemed had been won. The war was over. But Jiraiya is not sure about the particulars. He had not attended any of the meetings between the Kage and the captains.

Instead, he has been sitting here, nearly nonstop. The boys have not woken, not even once. He knows that they will live, but he still worries. Their bodies might be whole but their minds may yet be broken. Naruto, after all, had seemed nearly deranged for a while. And there was no telling whether the Kyuubi hadn't managed to scorch the sanity right out of Sasuke as well.

He needn't have worried.

After four days of something between sleep and unconsciousness, Sasuke finally stirs in his bed. He is awake and on alert at once, sitting up and looking around. That he is in a hospital is obvious enough, but it is only when his searching gaze lands on Naruto that some of the tension seeps from his shoulders.

He should take things slow for a while yet. Chakra depletion is nothing to trifle with, and he had almost died of his other wounds as well. But the boy doesn't seem to care about any of that. Kicking off his blankets, he slips out of his bed and staggers over to where Naruto is still deeply asleep.

The beds are terribly narrow, but still Sasuke manages to fit himself onto the mattress as well, half-sitting and half-lying, and his hand comes up to run through Naruto's matted hair.

It's a tender gesture, but even more so than that it is his gaze that has Jiraiya draw in a surprised breath. It is attentive, looking for injuries while at the same time etching every little detail into his memory. And it is gentle, but fierce, too, protectiveness woven into it right along with need and want, hope and regret.

For the Uchiha whose face was generally as expressive as an ANBU mask this show of affection was quite remarkable indeed.

A few minutes pass like this, but Sasuke's eyes do not seem to tire of Naruto's face, so Jiraiya finds himself silently watching as well.

Then, the tell-tale clicking of heels on the tiled floor alerts Jiraiya to Sakura's appearance. She has been busy taking care of the many injured, but spends her breaks coming to this room to watch over the boys. She's not aware of his presence, but he has learned to recognize her by the sound of her steps.

Now, as she comes down the hallway, her expression is guarded once more. Outside the door, she pauses and takes a deep breath. Inside, Sasuke stills as well. When she presses down the handle, they are both prepared for battle.

“You are awake then,” she points out the obvious, though she is not even looking at him, just closes the door behind herself once more. She passes through the room and snags up the clipboard from the end of Sasuke's deserted bed, skimming over the medical details, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Sasuke tells her, almost petulantly. His wary gaze had followed her, but now it is drawn back to Naruto.

“Are you aware of what happened on the battlefield?” she asks, her voice cool and controlled. Sasuke's lips purse slightly.

“I remember being injured,” he recalls, frowning, “I thought I was dying. After that, everything is a bit of a blur.”

“You were speared through by several of Madara's vines,” Sakura explains clinically, “An autopsy of his remains has revealed the fact that he had been... enhanced with Senju Hashirama's DNA. Kabuto's work, it seems.”

At the mention of that name, Sasuke tenses but doesn't say anything, so Sakura continues.

“Naruto was overcome by the Kyuubi. Instead of losing control, however, he managed to heal you and then even transferred some of the chakra to you. How did he do that?”

Sasuke's eyes have widened now and Jiraiya realizes that this is the first time he has seen the boy look anything like surprised.

“I don't know,” Sasuke says slowly, tilting his head as though seeing Naruto in a new light, “That has never happened before.”

“So you didn't teach him?” Sakura wants to know.

“The Kyuubi cannot be taught,” Sasuke scoffs in derision, “And if I tried to force it, it would just rip me apart.”

Jiraiya wasn't so sure about that. There have been reports of vessels overcoming their bijuu in order to protect loved ones. And if anyone was stubborn enough to defy even the Ninetails, then it was Naruto.

“So you're not going to use it?” Sakura demands, sharp and steely as a kunai. Sasuke sends her an equally cutting look.

“Use it how?” he asks scathingly and she gives an exaggerated shrug.

“I don't know,” she says, “Give Konoha the finishing blow?”

But Sasuke just turns away with a near roll his eyes.

“Our business with the Leaf is done,” he tells her blithely, “You have nothing to fear from us.”

“See, that's what I don't understand,” Sakura taps the clipboard against the metal rung at the foot of the bed, impatience or nervousness, Jiraiya can't quite tell.

“What was your business with Konoha to begin with,” she wants to know, “Why did you attack random squads? Why did you kill the council members?”

Ah. Suddenly Jiraiya becomes aware of his terrible oversight, because _she does not know_. No one bothered to tell her. Konoha's history was much rather forgotten for the sake of a more comfortable half-truth.

Sasuke's gaze is dark now, offended disbelief and the re-opened wounds of old memories.

“You mean to tell,” he says and glares, “That you have been judging us this whole time without knowing the full extent of Konoha's deceit?”

“What deceit?” Sakura frowns, obviously assuming, _hoping_ that he is just trying to throw her off track, “What-”

“Go ask your beloved Hokage,” he just cuts her off with a hiss, “Go ask Kakashi. I'd tell you to ask the elders, they knew the full story, after all, but... well...”

He trails off and his face is a smirk now, twisted and ugly in its brutal self-righteousness.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sakura tries once more, slightly desperate now, but Sasuke doesn't relent.

“I means,” he growls, “That you shouldn't throw the first kunai before checking for enemies within your own lines.”

Sakura stares, swallows.

“So maybe there was something more going on,” she acknowledges reluctantly, “But by what right did you drag Naruto into it as well?”

“He was already part of it,” Sasuke claims, “ _They_ made him part of it. We were both always nothing more but pawns to them, ready to be tossed around and sacrificed.”

“That is the life of a shinobi,” Sakura reminds him, “The greater good-”

“The greater good?” Sasuke repeats and if it weren't for Naruto his voice would surely rise, “Don't tell me about the greater good when you get to return to your parents by the end of the day. You have never been called names, not like we have. Do you still think of the days when the others made fun about your forehead? Then try to think think how we felt-”

“They shunned Naruto, I know that,” Sakura chokes out, “ _We_ shunned him. But you, you were a prodigy, everyone-”

“Everyone expected me to go insane like my brother seemingly did,” Sasuke snarls, “Everyone wanted me as nothing but an obedient soldier. The last of the Uchiha, they said. They expected me to revive the clan because they wanted the Sharingan. No one ever wanted _me_.”

So many mistakes, Jiraiya thinks, are made out of love. And so many more in the quest for it. It was a shame that the one thing that was meant to bring the greatest joy often caused so much pain instead.

“Did you ever tell it Naruto like that?” Sakura asks, her green eyes bright, “Did you tell him your plans while keeping his best intentions in mind? Or did you try to manipulate him?”

There is a moment of silence during which Sasuke seems to honestly contemplate that question. Eventually, he gives a vague shrug.

“I've made mistakes,” he admits freely, “But I don't regret it. None of it.”

Sakura stares.

“You honestly think you love him,” she says, disbelief and realization at the same time.

“When we were young,” Sasuke says as though he doesn't consider himself very young at all. He could have said 'when we were children' of course, but he's never really been a child, not since his family was so brutally taken from him. “You swore that you loved me. Time and time again, no matter how often I insulted you, mistreated you. You knew nothing about me, nothing at all, and you called it love.”

“I was barely thirteen,” Sakura defends herself, “I was confused. I thought- I know better now.”

“No,” Sasuke shakes his head, not even condescendingly, but so much wiser and weary with life, “You still don't know me, but now you use it as an excuse to hate me. You still haven't learned.”

“So what?” Sakura demands, obviously biting back curses, holding back fists, “You think not giving Naruto the choice to know anyone but you means that he truly loves you? That's how you think this works?”

“You seem to believe that I ever really planned any of this,” Sasuke huffs, “That I was thirteen and thought 'I will enthrall this boy to my will and he will love me and fuck me and do whatever I say'. It wasn't like that. I just wanted someone to listen. And Naruto did.”

He is silent, just for a moment, not long enough for Sakura to come up with another forceful argument, and then he continues.

“Do I think that I love him?” he asks and lets his gaze drop.

“No,” he says softly, ruefully, “I don't think that. I actually do.”

And now they are at an impassé and Sakura can only stare at him, can only glare and hope it might just be lethal enough.

“I hate you,” she whispers, yet Sasuke still does not look at her.

“I don't care,” he says simply and that, finally, is enough to break Sakura, to make her turn on her heel and slam out of the room in helpless fury.

After all, the opposite of love is not hate but indifference. And that is such a painful thing to realize indeed.

Jiraiya allows her to see him, just after the door closes. She startles, enough to take the anger off her face for a moment, then she frowns in question. Jiraiya just gestures to the spot beside himself, a casual invitation.

The girl visibly battles with herself. Then she relents, kneeling down to settle in next to him.

There is a strange sort of companionship between them now. They are the only real witnesses to what Naruto and Sasuke had become together, how they had taken down Uchiha Madara. It is a daunting sort of knowledge, not quite a secret, but unfathomable. It cannot truly be shared with outsiders.

They do not know what exactly they are waiting for, but in any case they do not have to wait for long.

Naruto wakes slowy. Before he even opens his eyes, there is a name upon his lips, something between a dream and a prayer.

“I am here,” Sasuke says, once more carding his fingers through blond hair.

“What-” Naruto mumbles, turning into the touch and blinking slightly, “Did we-”

“Yes,” Sasuke replies, “Yes, we did. Do you remember?”

“Not clearly,” Naruto is frowning now, “I- you were hurt, and I was so-”

“You saved me,” Sasuke reminds him and Jiraiya cannot shake the feeling that he is talking about more than just the recent event. Naruto smiles in response.

“You saved me first,” he says, an indisputable truth in his mouth.

Sasuke doesn't respond to that, not with words anyway; he just presses a chaste kiss to Naruto's lips.

And Jiraiya has woken up from days and weeks of coma before. Yet despite his own remarkable libido, he has never woken up in a mood for physical contact, feeling much too grimy and drained and groggy. But as always, Naruto and Sasuke are the exception to everyone else's rules.

Jiraiya can already tell what's coming, and he steals a glance at Sakura. Her mouth his pursed, enhancing her cheekbones like fine blades, but her gaze is just as sharp. She does not turn away. Maybe this is what she needs. Words had not convinced her, and neither had blood. This, hopefully, would.

“I need to feel you,” Naruto whimpers, probably in memory of what he had almost lost, and his hands come up to Sasuke's shoulders, pulling him closer.

It's been a long time, but Jiraiya still remembers his youth, the days of clumsy make-out sessions, of stealing confused glances at Hime's newly developed chest, arousing and intimidating at once. Nowadays, he fancies himself a capable lover, attentive and experienced, but at seventeen he had been far from it.

The awkwardness in Naruto and Sasuke's movements, however, merely stems from the strain in their bodies, the mental exhaustion. There is a familiarity to them, the way they fit together so easily that betrays just how often they have done this before.

Naruto arches his neck just so and immediately Sasuke puts his mouth to the skin. His hips fit themselves into the offered space before Naruto's knees have even fully splayed open. Just like their coordinated way of fighting, this too is a dance, even if they are the only ones who can hear the music.

They undulate against one another, and steadily the urgency of passion is building up. Before long, Sasuke sits up and positively tears the hospital gown off of himself, exposing the long lean line of his back.

There are scars on him, starting at his shoulder blades and running parallel to his spine. They are not the scars of battle, Jiraiya knows for he has felt the same pleasurable pain, has relished in it many times before.

Next to him, Sakura lets out a sharp breath through her nose, but she doesn't say anything, doesn't even blink, so Jiraiya refrains from commenting or, even more condescending, asking whether she wouldn't like to leave after all.

There is a wash basin next to the bed, and two dispensers fastened to the wall, one with disinfectant soap and one with lotion for the nurses, so their skin won't crack after constantly washing their hands.  
Ah, Jiraiya thinks mildly, filing it away as inspiration for a future novel as Sasuke reaches out and squirts a liberal amount into his hand.

Sakura has stiffened, hands clenched around her knees. Jiraiya has a feeling that the girl will never be able to wash her hands in the hospital again without being reminded of the scene unfolding before them.

By now Naruto has wriggled out of his gown as well, only to immediately pull Sasuke on top of him again. Sasuke complies to the silent demand, presses closer, nipping kisses at Naruto's cheeks, his jaw.

His hand disappears under the blanket and Jiraiya is grateful for it, for even he does not wish to see certain things in too much detail.

Naruto's breath hitches and he squirms a little bit, but sooner rather than later he is urging Sasuke on again.

“Come _on_ ,” he insists, bucking up, and Sasuke chuckles a little, drawls out another affectionate, “Dobe.”

His forearms are braced beside Naruto's head and, when he enters him in one long slow slide, neither looks away. And, even as they begin to move, their gazes remain locked, unwavering, unfaltering.

All of a sudden, Jiraiya feels uncomfortable. This is not sex, he admits to himself. It's reassurance. It's relief. Reconnecting. It doesn't take much to mesh bodies, just a little bit of arousal and attraction. But uniting spirits, he knows, is an altogether different deal.

This is not just sex. They are making love.

Vaguely, he wonders whether Sakura can tell the difference. Whether she has much experience in these kinds of things, or any experience at all. She is a pretty girl and surely does not lack for suitors, but her bitterness has made her brittle. Her body may be hardened but, much like Hime's, he suspects her heart to be very fragile indeed.

Luckily, everything is over rather quickly.

Sasuke's hips stutter against Naruto and a small breath escapes him, while his hand underneath the blanket speeds up until Naruto's back arches with it. It's not the kind of orgasm Jiraiya would write home about, or rather write a novel about. But this was never about physical pleasure in the first place.

In the same way that Jiraiya likes to sit down with his pipe, or Kakashi with a good book, Sasuke and Naruto have learned how to find their peace of mind within each other.

Sasuke brushes Naruto's hair out of his face, taking another long look at him. Then he twists his head to the side, his gaze fixing itself on the closed door.

Spotted, Jiraiya thinks wryly. He really shouldn't have expected otherwise, though it makes him wonder whether, back at the inn, the Uchiha had been aware of his presence all along as well.

But Sasuke doesn't react to the uninvited voyeurs, just darkly looks at them for another moment, before ducking his head and pressing a lingering kiss to Naruto's sweaty temple.

“Try to sleep now,” he whispers into his lover's ear, barely loud enough for their onlookers to hear, “We're leaving tomorrow.”

 

“Won't you stay a little longer?” Sakura tries. She is not outright begging, but her voice has finally lost the hard edge she had carried during the past few weeks, “Please, Kakashi-sensei is still recovering and Tsunade-taisho is busy with the other Kage. And- and think of Hinata-chan, she-”

She probably wouldn't ask Naruto to stay, Jiraiya suspects. In the past days, the girl has carried her father and several other family members to their grave, and has a clan to lead now. If she hadn't moved on before, she will now.

As for Kakashi, he had seen his fair share of ghosts in the last battle. He doesn't need any more to remind him of his regrets.

Tsunade might try to convince them. But she has the village as her priority and that village mostly consists of debris. Not to mention that she had promised to exonerate the boys. Asking them to stay was almost as bad as going back on her words.

“We still have plans,” Naruto tells Sakura, not unkindly. His rage upon her refusal to save Sasuke seems to have diminished and he had even apologized to her, at least for attacking her so violently.

“What plans?” Sakura asks, “Where could you possibly go-”

But Naruto just exchanges a look with Sasuke.

“Wherever our feet may take us,” he replies enigmatically, “The world is huge and I've barely seen any of it.”

“In that case,” Jiraiya speaks up, arms crossed but stance relaxed, “You might still want to keep in touch. I've traveled far and wide, you know. If you plan to go sight-seeing, there are some inside tips I could pass on.”

At that, Naruto looks at him, long and searching. Then a smile breaks across his face.

“Yeah,” he says, “That sounds good.”

He and Sasuke shoulder their packs, already half-turned toward the gate.

“I might not become Hokage,” Naruto adds in an afterthought, stealing another glance at Sakura, “But take care of the village for me, alright?”

Sakura sucks in a breath, shoulders hunching up. Then she gives a tight nod.

“You better believe it,” she says and it earns her bright laugh.

Then Naruto gives Jiraiya a fleeting wave and makes for the gate.

Curiously, Sasuke stays behind. He doesn't say anything, but he and Sakura look at each other, face to face, unflinching. Then he, too, turns away, offering Jiraiya an acknowledging nod.

“Teme!” Naruto yells from beyond the city walls, “You coming or what?”

“Pipe it down, will you,” Sasuke drawls out with a roll of his eyes, but then he follows the sound of Naruto's voice.

“Take care of each other!” Sakura calls after him when he is only a few meters away from them. Sasuke doesn't stop, doesn't look back, but his hand lifts in a lazy wave, and considering that this is about Naruto it is probably equivalent to him outright pledging his life.

 

The half-destroyed village at their backs, Sakura and Jiraiya stand and watch as the figures of Sasuke and Naruto become smaller and smaller, fading into the distance.

And while they had all been hoping against hope that they would not have to say goodbye at all, it is not as painful a farewell as it could have been. This time, the boys didn't take off running, didn't just disappear, didn't leave injured Konoha shinobi in their wake. This time, they stayed just long enough to smooth the waves.

Jiraiya won't say that he can breathe easy now, but still a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. This is one responsibility less for him to worry about and he has accepted that not all failures are the same.

Finally, Naruto and Sasuke can no longer be seen at the horizon.

Sakura swallows hard, but when she speaks she still sounds wretched.

“Do you think,” she asks, “That it was wrong of me to not want to heal Sasuke?”

The question does not come out of the blue. Jiraiya had read it on her face every time she went to check on the boys.

“Tsunade-hime once asked me something similar,” he tells her after some contemplation, “She asked whether, after that fight with his brother, she should have just left Sasuke in his coma.“

Sakura startles, probably surprised that at some point her mentor would have gone against her oath as well, “He hadn't done anything bad back then, though.”

“Can you say that about all of your patients?” Jiraiya wants to know, cocking an eyebrow, even though he doesn't look at her, gaze still straight ahead, “A lot of people do something bad in their lives and you might never even know about it. Can you truly be the one to judge who gets to live or to die?”

He lets out a heavy, drawn-out sigh, “You are in a demanding situation. As a medic nin you are expected to heal and kill, depending on the situation. Life is unfair and our choices hard.“

Sakura takes a deep breath and it sounds somewhat unsteady, somewhat watery maybe.

“If I had healed Sasuke,” she wonders aloud, “Would they have stayed? If he had died, would Naruto have chosen us?”

“Don't ask yourself that,” he warns darkly and speaking out of personal experience, “You'll only make it worse.”

“It can't get any worse,” she says and her fists clench by her side. For a long moment, they stand in silence like this.

“Do you think it's true?” she asks eventually.

“Hm?”

“That they love each other and are happy,” she clarifies.

“Love and happiness are both things that can be very different for everyone,” Jiraiya knows for he has seen proof enough throughout his life, “Just because we are unhappy with the situation does not mean they are, too. And what is love anyway if not the fierce desire to see someone at their best? So maybe in this case, their best is with each other.”

“I'd still like to watch from the sidelines,” Sakura admits quietly, honest about her feelings for the first time in years perhaps, and that is a lesson learned the hard way.

“Me, too,“ Jiraiya says at length, “Me, too.“

He doesn't know how much time has passed, but eventually he uncrosses his arms, turns around and strolls away. There is still much to do in Konoha before he can get back on the road as well.

Sakura, he knows without looking, is still lingering by the gate and will be for some time, watching shadows that are no longer there.

But the sky is blue and the morning bright, and hopefully she will realize that as well.

For a moment, Jiraiya's eyes are drawn towards the Hokage Monument, to Hiruzen's apparent fierceness and Minato's deceptively stern face. But then he just sighs and smiles and lights his pipe.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it! The last chapter! But possibly not the end of the story! :D
> 
> I hope I could satisfy everyone with this resolution. However, I've been getting several asks about a) Naruto possibly changing the system after all and b) seeing the development of the relationship from his point of view. So I've decided that I'll write it both.  
> So be prepared for "Glass over the Flame" with will be set several years later and told from Sakura's POV, as well as "Share Your Road", where we will return to the beginnings and learn how maybe Naruto wasn't quite as innocent in regards to their co-dependency as everyone might have believed.
> 
> I'm not yet sure in which order I'll update, but both will probably be longer oneshots. Then again, that's what I thought about this installment, too, and look where it's got us.
> 
> So far I've honestly been blown away by the feedback this series has been getting. Please let me know one more time what you think. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic of] Hope's on Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673000) by [Dr_Fumbles_McStupid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Fumbles_McStupid/pseuds/Dr_Fumbles_McStupid)




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